Grand Theft Auto III: Surviving Liberty
by LASTkNIGHT
Summary: 8-ball creates an unbeatable trio with his former cellmate Trenton, and Fido. Max Payne has tracked Trent from New York and struggles to bring them down. R for brutal violence and profanity. Trivial Update.
1. 2: Fido

**ALL NOTES WILL COME THROUGH HERE. IT'S EASIER THAT WAY.**

Note: The inspiration for this story comes from Quentin Tarantino's flicks, Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction, if you haven't seen them and you're a GTA fan, you should. I've also had inspiration from several other sources including movies like Scarface, Road to Perdition, and Die Hard.

Summary: 8-ball breaks out of Prison with his cellmate Trent, they hook up with Fido and form a team that no one can beat. Unless Max Payne has something to say about it, he tracks Trent from New York and decides to try himself. R for serious language and brutal violence. Later on in the story there will be a link to Vice City and Tommy Vercetti.

Chapters in this story don't have titles, they have numbers which indicate the order events take place in (don't actually read them in order, it's just there so you don't get confused) Chapters also have characters names which indicate who the main character is for that particular chapter. Some chapters may or may not have two numbers indicating that it overlaps two different time periods.

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Grand Theft Auto or Max Payne. Nor do I have any legal ownership of Movies, Video Game Titles, Books, Songs, T.V. Shows etc... That might end up in this story or my notes. I enjoy my freedom as a writer, but please don't use any of my characters without asking me first.

Grand Theft Auto III: Surviving Liberty:

FIDO:

Fido is inside his cramped hideout at Eddie's Auto Parts. Nobody calls him anything except for Dog or Fido, he lives there but Fido is not Eddie. On the bed is a blonde prostitute he 'does her' hard moving quickly but quietly. It is his favorite way to pass the time and it made him feel a lot better after a hard day's work, a must in his business.

Falling rain stomps hard on Fido's window, an endless fountain of falling water. Inside, the woman's screams of pleasure. Outside, a woman's screams of anguish. Outside, a passing Diablo Stallion blasts Game Radio. Inside, the antics of Lazlow, and his critically crushed, but amazingly humerous radio talk show Chatterbox.

Outside Fido hears the familiar sound of a car crash. He ignores it. 'Why the hell should he care this is Liberty?' He continues, another thunderous metallic outburst breaks his concentration, but again he doesn't completely stop.

He continues on as yelling builds outside, he hears a voice scream; "Take the Banshee this guy won't miss it!" The hell he won't the Banshee is by far Fido's favorite car. Fido suddenly has the urge to stop, he throws the hooker on the bed, and zips up his pants.

"What about my money?"

Fido pulls out a wad of cash and throws it at her, as if to say 'THERE now get the hell out of my face!' The money scatters across the floor making the hooker play fifty-two card pick up with hundred dollar bills. As the woman leaves he goes under his bed and grabs a 12 gauge shotgun. He turns off the radio then sets the shotgun down against the doorframe.

He kicks his way through the green revolving door, out into the pouring rain. He pulls a Barretta from his coat pocket and aims.

Three prisoners, Triads, run towards him chained together. He knows they're not the ones who want to steal his car, none of them even speak English that well. Regardless he fires three times, the Triad on his left is hit by all three shots, in the chest, the throat, and the face, he goes down a bloody mess. The Triad on the right of Fido raises a semi-familiar brown object Fido realizes what it is: A flamethrower. Fido quickly ducks back inside, hearing the plume of fire pound his door.

Fido decides he has two choices, he can either: Stay inside and wait for the Triad to run out of fuel and deal with the sweltering heat. Or: Go out the door shooting like a madman and pray that he isn't burned beyond recognition.

He decides without hesitation 'Choice number two.' He looks out the window, an orange flame moves across it like water, leaving the glass framed in streaks of black and brown.

'Perfect' he thinks as he kicks the door open, this time he has the shotgun ready. He cocks it and fires, the man on his right is taken out with a single shot to the chest, the man in the middle is thrown off balance and falls backward.

Fido moves slowly towards him and puts the smoking gun barrel on the Triad's cheek, burning him. The Triad begs him in Chinese to let him go. Fido ignores him and pumps out the shell, it lands next to the Triads face giving him a glimpse of it before his head is blown to bits. Fido pulls the trigger, and shows no compassion.

As he moves towards his garage he hears two men's voices inside, quiet, whispering.

"Man, why the fuck did you wait?"

"Cuz I wanted to see the motherfucker work, that's why I waited."

"Let's get out of here!"

Fido can't see inside, the garage door is slightly shut, but he can hear the scratching of a knife hit the metal of his car. He swiftly throws open the rest of the garage door and points his shotgun. Inside is a man, fairly young, with dark hair and brown eyes crouched down next to his car picking the lock with a pathetic little pocket knife. The man startled, falls backward looking up at Fido through the barrel of the shotgun. Fido looks around the car for the other man, but doesn't see anyone, he won't move from that spot his focus is on the dark-haired man.

A familiar voice comes from the left side of the Banshee, "I TOLD you that motherfucka's RUTHLESS!" 8-ball rises into view from the other side of the car. Trent has a fading New York accent and looks to be at least partially Italian. Both men are in orange inmates clothes.

"Friend of yours 8-ball?"

"I already told you he's a friend of mine, this's Fido. Fido this's Trent."

"Nice to meet you." Trent shakes Fido's hand then looks at 8-ball, "Does he talk?"

"Yeah he talks. I think. Never said much though. Fido my man, Trent here needs a job, you know where he can find one?" Fido nods his head 'Yes.'

"Good, sorry about the car we were kinda' in a hurry." Fido shrugs. Then takes out a keychain and presses a button, the convertable top lifts.

"Okay let's go." Trent says jumping into the Banshee.

"No wait we can't go in that... I mean, hey if you guys want to go on jobs alone that's your fuckin' business, but I need a job too, so I might as well go with you. If that's not a problem."

"Not a problem." Trent says jumping out of the car. "We'll just take the Blista."

They step over the bodies of the fallen Triad's moving towards a Blista van that has crushed the back of a flipped ambulance, the ambulance had crashed up against the corner of a brick wall, at the entrance lot to Eddie's Auto Parts.

"Wait," Trent says stopping them, "what's his name?"

"I don't know his fuckin' real name, he doesn't have ID and he never speaks. How the hell am supposed to know his name?"

"Well you got to call him somethin' I'm not gonna be screamin' 'hey you, in the fuckin' leather jacket!' all the time!"

"His fuckin' name is Dog alright! He works like one, like a fucking animal."

Fido holds up his bloody shotgun smiling. The three of them get into the van casually and drive away, Trent in the back, Fido driving, and 8- ball in the passanger seat.

They drive off looking for work.


	2. 1: Max

MAX:

Max Payne sits with his feet on his captain's desk. Eyes glaring at him through a red face, his captain had just finished a long angry sentence - that Max was sure, if it had been any longer the man would have had an aneurism.

"...Okay, wait a minute... They did what?"

"They put him on some fuckin' reality show down there! The son of a bitch's going to be walking around like a goddamn citizen!"

"Why would they do that?" Max says perplexed.

"I don't know, but they did. I tell you, they got some dumbshits working down there in Liberty!" his captain lights a cigarette.

"What's it about."

The captian pulls the cigarette away from his mouth to focus on Payne. "Huh?..."

"The T.V. show, what's it about."

"I've never seen it, they get it exlusively in Liberty City. Supposedly they let loose all their prisoner and watch them waste each other with flamethrowers and rocket launchers."

"I thought you said it was a reality show?"

The captain looks at Max like he's the dumbest person who ever lived, "It is a fuckin' reality show, that's the rumor!"

"So it's fake then? They can't get away with that."

"Who gives a fuck if it's fake or not the point is, they're givin' him the chance to escape."

"Yeah and I've seen Trent get out of some air tight situations, this would be no sweat for him. Okay, so now I get your point. I still don't want to fly all the way down to Liberty City I mean come on Trent's small time anyway."

"Small time yeah! But the fucker's got ambishion, his idol's Tommy Vercetti. Know who that fucker is? Goddamn kingpin out in Vice City, son of a bitch has got his fingers in so many pies they don't even have his fingerprints on file anymore."

"Okay..." Max says, taking his feet off the desk he leans forward, "again, I see your point, but what does all this have to do with me."

"What does this have to do with you?" the captain raises his hands in the air. "You're Max fuckin' Payne! The press loves your ass and I'll admit you deserve it... This place, Liberty... It's filled with crooked cops, and crooks and hookers, everybody watches this city take it up the ass every day, but they don't do jack-shit about it. If they won't I will."

"So this isn't about Trent at all. You think that since I was down here drowning all tha Mafia sharks, that I could go down there, and go trigger happy until all the little fish are safe right?"

"Yeah, exactly. I admit it. But this place is fuckin' Jaws even you could get your ass killed. So be careful."

"Crooked cops and Crooks, jeez I'm going to have to shoot everybody." Max says joking.

"You probably will actually, I've never met one decent person who's from Liberty, all of them end up either 'stone cold emotionless' or 'stone cold dead'."

"Thanks I appreciate that." Max says sarcastically.

"Remember while your down there most of your info has to be about Trent, otherwise it might look suspicious."

"Trust me Max says opening the door, it's going to look suspicious anyway. Try sending me down there to do a real job, instead of some kind of gangster hunter that kills anyone with a record over that of a pick pocket." Max Payne shuts the door behind him. His captain screams from inside.

"That is a real job."

Max Payne readies himself to board a plane to Liberty.


	3. 1: 2: Trent & 8ball

TRENT & 8-BALL

Trent looks out the window of the blue Liberty City transport bus. Him and his cellmate 8-ball were to be taken with a bus load of prisoners to Liberty City Park, to begin the new season of the psychotic hit reality show Liberty City Survivor.

The Show is available to the entire city, most people believe that Liberty City Survivor is nothing more than a very clever set up of actors working with prisoners to make a very violent and realistic fake reality show that would cater to the needs of a blood thirsty city, a total fake, but it wasn't. Liberty City Survivor was one hundred percent real no matter what anyone else thought. Liberty was crooked enough to pass it off without anyone doing anything, besides who would believe they were watching real people die on a hyped up reality show.

The rain was getting stronger, Trent realized that the news had said it would rain constantly for days. He liked the weather, but not as much as 8-ball. 8-ball actually believed that rain brought him good luck. He said he always had his best days when it rained. Trent remembered that 8-ball had told him earlier he had his worst days when it rained, so which one is it? 8-ball had told him it was both, but he had remained up-beat about their current situation, until now.

"Hey Trent, they going to have us kill each other?"

"No 8-ball I don't think so." he says, then turns his attention back out the window as they begin to stop.

"What if they do?"

"They won't, they can't. It's your decision right? Don't you get it? This is a free ticket. These motherfuckers are going to hand us guns, we don't have to kill each other. We can blast our way out of there. I've watched this show at least three times, once I saw two guys escape without even using guns. These dumb fucks, don't get it. They don't even give out a prize for this, and even if the prize for this was total immunity from everyone, I'd still escape cuz' I am not going to fuckin' kill you. Get it?"

"Yeah... I think I see what you're saying. Yeah, I know a guy down in Portland too, he can help us. He's strapped to the fuckin' teeth, there's no way in hell they'll take us back to prison. Then I can find you a job somewhere. This just might fucking work.

"Damn right it will, this is going to be one of those good days 8-ball-man."

They put their fists together as the bus comes to a stop. They stand up, Trent looks out the window, the grass is so green, 'so misleading' he thinks to himself, it's the scene of constant murders yet it could be turned into the garden of Eden.

A gaurd gets up from the very back of the bus, Trent and 8-ball were sitting in the back, Trent is constantly jabbed in the back by the guard's shotgun.

"Move you fucking pussies!"

Trent leans forward and talks quietly to 8-ball, who's chained to him, "What about the pig?"

"Who porky? Kill his ass too, what the fuck do you think, the minute they give us guns it's wild west time."

The guard gets suspicious of the two of them talking, he spits his chewing tobacco onto Trent's back. "Quit your fucking love making. Faggots."

Trent shows great will as he resists the urge to deck the prison guard. The two of them get off the bus and get in a shoulder-to-shoulder line. A man comes around unlocking all the handcuffs. Trent looks around, he can see guns with no bullets being handed to all the prisoners.

"Hey 8-ball-man, they hand you guns then they give you bullets. Getting out of here's going to be harder, there'll be about ninety eight prisoners who want to blow us away."

"That was going to happen anyway. We'll just have to hope."

"Would you like to be chained together?" A voice comes from in front of Trent were he looks for the first time. A skinny man is holding a clip board, behind him is a man with a huge crate full of ammo and another man with a crate with handcuffs.

"Excuse me?"

"You can be chained together as a team. If you do so you get double the ammo but only one gun. The purpose of this is for one to be a driver and another to be a shooter. We cuff you together, it's popular among cellmates because they can win the team cup without having to 'finish' each other."

"Uh, yeah sure..." Trent says unsure, looking at 8-ball who doesn't seem to mind the idea at all.

Trent had decided to go for it because he thought there was a chance that it would somehow work to their advantage. He was right, people in teams were givin they're ammo first because of the double ammo rule. A loop hole that gave him and 8-ball the upper-hand.

8-ball looks into the sky letting the rain fall on his face, "Man, I fucking love Liberty weather." at the same time Trent cocks his Berretta and smiles at the prison gaurd who'd spit on him.

"Smile motherfucker. This's your head-shot"

Trent unloads five bullets into the gaurds head splattering his red brain matter across the blue bus. He makes a break for it. Behind him and 8-ball, the crowd of prisoners explodes into a rampage, destroying T.V. workers for ammunition. They had panicked thinking the show had started.

Trent and 8-ball run blindly through the crowd. A Triad jumps in front of Trent and points a shotgun at him. Without even stopping Trent guns him down.

"Holy shit how many fuckin' times did you shoot him?"

"Six. I think..."

"Holy shit..."

A line of fire shoots through mid-air narrowly missing 8-ball's back. He doesn't turn around but he he hears the nearby screaming of Chinese Triads.

"...I think that guy you shot was important."

"What makes you say that?" Trent says turning his head, he spots three Triads all chained together. They have a flamethrower and three tanks of fuel. "Oh my god..."

The two of them pick up the pace as they reach the end of the park. It leads them to a busy metropolitan street, a lot of people and activity. BLAM! BLAM! 8-ball is shocked as Trent puts two in a cops head.

"Hey...Why'd... Why'd you do......that?" 8-ball finishes his question running out of breath.

"Why...do you think?" Trent says back to him. "He was...there...to...stop...us!"

The two of them finally stop in front of an ambulance, the two paramedics are outside the van smoking cigarettes. Fido and 8-ball sit for a second and catch their breath.

The Triads are far away, but gaining. Trent looks at the smoking paramedic. He's annoyed. How's he supposed to catch his breath with some guy smoking standing next to him?

"Hey buddy, don't you have a job to do or something?" Trent asks one of them.

"Yeah we get calls all the time, it's better to just ignore them for now though. We won't have to worry once the guy's dead." The paramedic smiles like an idiot. "This town is full of people dying, it's better if I just let someone else get them. I get paid 'til they fire me... and they-won't-fire-me..."

Trent realizes the guy acts stoned. He jams the gun under the paramedic's chin.

"Well now you'll have an excuse to give 'm."

The three Triad's are getting closer. Trent charges forward a few step and fires two shots. The gun empties, and the clip drops autimatically to the ground. The stoned paramedic waves at 8-ball and Trent as they get in the Ambulance. Trent drives and 8-ball sits next to him.

"Jesus Christ man... I think that ambulance-guy back there was on fuckin' spank!"

"Yeah, whatever man -- Hey, what the hell are you doing? My Dog's place is that way."

"I know. I know where Portland is man, I'm trying to lose them."

8-ball leans out the window, as he does the chains pull on Trent's wrists, throwing him off balance. 8-ball can see that the three Traids are following them in a green Blista. He sits back down in his seat and reaches his hand out to Trent.

"Hand me the nine..." Trent hands 8-ball the gun. He loads another clip and cocks a bullet into the chamber. 8-ball leans out the window and blasts an unstable amount of bullets into on coming traffic. The Ambulance swerves uncontrollably, 8-ball can't fire straight. The cuffs pull hard on Trents hands pressing into his flesh. The ambulance almost slams into two cars. 8-ball sits back down.

"Goddamn it Trent! Will you stop fuckin' swervin' around."

"Hey don't blame this on me, this shit fuckin' hurts!"

"I know it hurts. Hurts me too. Use your LEFT hand ONLY from now on."

Trent tries it, and the rest of the driving goes smoothly. 8-ball fires but stops before he runs out of bullets. He ducks his head back in and sits down.

"What'd you get?... Come on man what'd you get?"

"I got nothing, I'm a fucking terrible shot man. Maybe we should switch?"

"Hey, no! We can't switch what're you talking about? It's too fucking late now!"

"Shit your right. All I got was the windshield and the grill."

"Well that's somethin'... Fine okay whatever, fuck that for now. Go back there and see if you can find anything to pick these locks with. Don't go too far or it'll be hell on both of us."

8-ball reaches his hand around. He feels a small plastic box with tape on it, he wraps his fingers around it and sets it down on his lap. He looks at the tape amazed.

"What's it say?"

"Syringes. Fuck yeah! This'll work"

8-ball opens up the box and takes out a syringe. He takes the syringe out and puts it in the keyhole "I just hope they're strong enou-" the syringe breaks. "SHIT!" He takes out another one, again it snaps when he uses it. 8-ball begins to panic "FUCK MAN! One of these has GOT to work!" he sticks the third one in and it unlocks his left hand. "YES!"

"What? What? You get one?" Trent asks him glancing over.

"Yeah."

All of the rest of the handcuffs come off with no problems. 8-ball used the same syringe for every keyhole. He takes the needle and holds it up.

"This is my lucky needle..." he takes the needle and sticks it in his pocket.

Trent looks over at 8-ball laughing "Holy shit man, are you fucking keeping that?"

"Hell yeah. It unlocked all of these keyholes with no problems, it-has-GOT to be lucky!"

"8-ball man you are so luck obses-"

BAM! An explosion, a soaring barrage of jagged metal. The ambulance strikes the point where two walls connect together at a corner. They feel the heavy back of the truck lift into the air on impact, the car flips over slamming onto it's left side.

8-ball's shoulder hits the padded door of the ambulance and his head narrowly misses the windshield and the concrete beneath it.

Trent sleepily climbs out of the van, he looks to his right at the end of the van, behind it sits the Blista with a cracked windshield and a busted front end. They had apperently rammed the back of the ambulance, which helped to flip it over.

Trent slips and falls along the roof down to the concrete landing on shattered glass. 8-ball follows quickly behind going down the of the ambulance and sliding across the grill.

8-ball moves closer to Trent, "You okay?" 8-ball says wiping glass off his clothes.

"I should be asking you that. You broke my fall..."

"Yeah, well I'm okay. Holy shit!"

"What?... Come on man what is it?"

8-ball looks up at a large dirty sign that says Eddie's Auto Parts. Trent can't understand what the big deal is.

"This is the place?"

"What place?"

"Place where my dog lives man!"

"Oh yeah..."

The three Triads get out of the Blista struggling with their chains. 8-ball and Trent run for the garage.

"Take the Banshee this guy won't miss it!" 8-ball screams, pulling open the garage door part-way.

Trent is glad to be out of the rain, his clothes had started to get soaked. Trent looks at the Banshee, it's a convertible but the top is up.

"Pick the lock, then open my door from the other side." 8-ball gives Trent the orders.

"Why can't I just rip open the top?"

"You better be fuckin' joking man, if this guy sees you do that to his car he'll fucking kill you. Now pick the lock."

"Well jeez hold on," Trent demands trying to think, "I need something to pick the lock with you know."

8-ball holds up his 'lucky needle,' "Will this work?"

"No. How the hell is that supposed to work, it'll snap like a twig even if it is lucky..."

"Yeah I gues your right-"

"It doesn't matter," Trent says reaching into his pocket, "I got a knife anyway."

He pulls a very small and pathetic looking knife from his right-hand pocket. Gunshots startle the two of them, they both jump but quickly get a grip.

"Where'd you get that from?"

Trent laughs a little, "I stole it off the crazy ambulance guy. Okay you want me to pick it now-"

"No! Not yet..." 8-ball ducks, under the garage door and spots 'his dog' coming through the door with a shotgun.

Trent spots the man too, he's the embodiment of a freelance gangster. He wears no gang colors but has an all-around look like a criminal. He doesn't look Italian which doesn't link him to the mob, and the way he moves with a gun makes him look like he knows how to use one better than any other man on earth. He wears a black T-shirt under a black leather jacket, and green cargo pants with blue shoes. He kills the Triads with a look in his eyes like a raging maniac, all the time he never says a word.

Trent can't believe he's going to steal this man's car. "Man, why the fuck did you wait?" he asks 8-ball.

"Cuz I wanted to see the motherfucker work, that's why I waited."

"Let's get out of here?!" Trent says, not wanting to get his face blown of by a fucking maniac.

Trent puts the knife into the keyhole, attempting to unlock the door. The garage door swings up and in a split second a smoking shotgun barrel is centimeters away from his face. He falls on his ass, scared that in a few seconds his face would be the result of buckshot.

The man doesn't say anything at all again, his silence creeps him out a little. The man with the shotgun looks around the car. Trent wonders if this really is 8-ball's friend. 8-ball comes up from the left side of the car smiling.

"I TOLD you that motherfucka's RUTHLESS!"


	4. 3: Max

MAX:  
  
Max Payne steps off the airplane into Liberty City airport. He looks at his coffee, annoyed at the freezing chill coming from the cup he tosses it aside. He realizes immediately that he seems to fit in, as he is not your average cop. Besides in a weird way Liberty City was a lot like New York.  
Rain pounds the top of Max's head, he'd heard someone mention that it was going to rain for days, maybe weeks. This didn't matter to him, he'd had to deal with a lot worse than rain in his time on the force, he isn't even slightly effected.  
He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket in a futile attempt to light one he tosses the cigarette to the ground. Then pulls out his gun in front of everyone to check his bullets, doing it as a kind of dark joke to show how pathetic the security is in airplanes going to and from Liberty.  
Max Rents a car at the airport and drives halfway through the city, going from Staunton Island to Portland. He had decided the only way to find garbage was to go were waste accumulates in Liberty the one place everyone seemed to climate towards was a small venue known as Luigi's Sex Club. People came from all three islands to get to Luigi's and it was a popular Mafia hang-out. Max had also read that Luigi was dead, killed a few years ago, someone had blown his car apart with a shotgun.  
He gets close to Luigi's, he ends up driving in an area rich with gang violence. He notices that the gangsters are the street gang members known as the Diablos. Max is driving through the street past two apartment buildings with a payphone in the middle. He just spots a black Sentinal parked next to the phone, during his briefing it was stated that black Sentinals were known by the police in Liberty as 'Mafia Sentinals.'  
He moves his car slowly to a stop a prostitute bangs on his windows and he smiles at her as he comes to a stop, he reaches to turn off the ignition when his door swings open. A man with a black shirt and a blue hat, grabs Max by his leather jacket and throws him onto the concrete. Gets in the rental-car and drives away. Max jumps to his feet and starts blasting holes into the car with his pistol hoping the man would get scared and jump out, he doesn't he just keeps driving.  
"Shit!"  
He doesn't know whether to go to Luigi's or stick by the Sentinal in case something happens. A man wearing a pink suit and feathered hat runs up on him with a Desert Eagle.  
"GIVE ME ALL YOUR FUCKIN' MONEY!"  
'This is rediculous,' he says to himself reaching in his pocket. He pulls out a Berretta and points it at the pimp. He reacts quickly firing two shots at Max, Max goes into his 'zone' a condition that Max has had for years.  
He calls it 'the zone,' his doctors call it a brain deficiency. It's the first time the doctors had ever seen it and were baffled by its effects. Adreniline pumps into Max's body during a state of panic, as with everyone, but with Max his brain reacts as well. In an attempt to keep Max alive in an impossible situation his brain distorts Max's perception of time and thought giving him, the ability to react to something even as instantaneous as a flying bullet.  
Max drops to his right, three bullets glide only a little less than a foot away from him. He hits the ground and looks up at the man. He'd ran he pushes down pedestrians in the street. Max doesn't want to arrest him that would get Max killed, but he won't kill the man either not if he's going to run away instead of stay and fight.  
Max realizes quickly that not killing him was a big mistake the pimp darts after a Mannana he brutally blasts the right side with .50 caliber bullets. A bullet flies through the left windshield and blood paints the interior of the car. Max is amazed at the amount of violence even in a place as infamous as Liberty.  
The pimps pulls the dead woman from the car. Max can't even tell what she looks like, the hole coming through the left side of her head is so large and bloody it disfigures her entire face. He grabs his other Berretta from his pocket and blows holes in the car.  
Suddenly Max feels his rush of energy, the car in front of hims slows down, as well as the clouds on the horizon and the rain in the sky. He fires like a maniac but the look on his face shows focus. He aims both guns in the same exact direction and fires. The car turns into a yellow and red fireworks show. Max finally gets a grip on himself and goes back to a state of normallity.  
BOOM! the car finishes it's explosion, tearing into tiny peices of flying plastic, metal, and glass. Ripping past air and rain. The car slides for six feet and black smoke spews uncontrollably from it, so much so that the fire that makes it can barely be seen.  
Max stumbles and almost falls over, he gets a grip on himself then falls down. 'Oh well at least I tried,' he thinks to himself. His head becomes a sea of pain, he feels like it's been stuck with a thousand icles and hot pokers, ice cold pain, and red hot agony. It's amazing that he never goes into shock and dies.  
It's part of Max Payne's brain deficiency. His brain can't handle what it's doing to itself, he can't handle the nerves and thoughts pumping faster than normal. He would later slip into a state of perpetual pain. Every part of his body will feel every type of pain imaginable to the human mind and some that aren't.  
Max had only learned one way to counter it: painkillers. He'd had to use them so much that once he'd become addicted. There were also a few times when his current painkillers became unusable.  
He had chased after a perp during a bank robbery the man turned around and shot at Max. Max got hit once in the arm, knowing what would happen next he quickly stuck two painkillers in his mouth. Four minutes after that incident Max fell to the ground and convulsed uncontrollably for twenty-five minutes, then slipped into a coma that lasted nearly six months. The doctors said he'd become immune to the painkillers and the shock of his 'zone' had almost killed him. The stress itself was already taking years off his life now he had to deal with a condition that could kill him and an addiction to drugs.  
Max gets to his feet and slowly recovers, he feels the surge of pain shoot through his body, then it stops, the painkillers are working. He hears the distant wail of sirens and decides to bail. He runs back towards the Mafia Sentinal.  
Three men come out of one of the apartments, one of them is Trenton Baldassare the kid Max is tracking from New York. He ducks behind a BF Injection, and watches them. Trent wipes blood off a baseball bat smiling. Trent is with a black guy with a blue jacket, the jacket has a patch with an 8-ball over the heart, the jacket is fading and looks very old. Trent's also with another white guy in a leather jacket who looks only slightly similar to Max Payne himself.  
Max takes out a note pad and puts it under the car so rain won't soak it, then he writes: White male: late twenties, possible Italian mob dark hair and eyes average height. Black male: 8-ball? bald, possible freelance gangster nearly the same height as the other two.  
Max will use it as kind of a rough reference later on. The three men get into the Mafia Sentinal.  
  
Max Payne quickly jumps into the blue BF Injection and follows them. 


	5. 3: Trent 8ball & Fido

Trent 8-ball and Fido:

Fido slowed the car to a stop right outside Momma's Restaurant in Harwood. He takes out his gun and lays it on the dashboard, feeling that bringing it might offend Tony.

Fido had done several Jobs for Tony Cipriani in the past, all of them had turned out great, but Tony had Mafia connections and Fido had blown away most of Cipriani's business, which included Luigi and his club. To his amazement though, Tony did not kill Fido he didn't even blame him, in Tony's mind the bastards got what they deserved, besides now Tony had Fido securely in his grasp, working exclusively for him.

Trent had heard of the infamous Momma's Restaurant, it was the starting point for most crime myths that started in or around Liberty. One of which said that during a police raid Tony and his boys killed the cops and served them up as food in an attempt to hide the evidence. Asking Tony - he felt - would be a bad idea; some things are better left unsaid.

The three of them approached the wooden table that Tony was sitting at, a red and white striped umbrella kept him from the rain as he continued his conversation with the man sitting across from him. He was telling Tony a story about a job that went bad. He had a long face, big eyes and odd shaped teeth; his voice was slightly high-pitched and very annoying.

"So all these fuckers shoot each other right there in front of me, I mean it was so fast it was like BAM! I couldn't believe it. I figured since I was the only one acting like a professional I'd just take the bag and run - "

"Doesn't sound like you acted like a professional, it sounds like you acted like a pussy!" Tony cuts in laughing.

"Can I finish the fuckin' story huh? Can I?"

"Yeah sure man. Okay."

"I don't really remember much of what happened after that. I got in a car, I shot like the fuck out of the police but they kept comin', I mean it was like cockroaches or somethin' they just kept comin'. Anyway, they locked my ass up, right after shootin' my ass. I'm lucky I got out early though.

"You sure are," Tony says, "but if you don't stick around Liberty from now on, the cops are gonna' get you for bustin' out, I'm sure you'll be safe if you stay here."

"Thanks Tony."

"Hey no problem."

Tony gets up from his seat just long enough to greet Fido and the others he shakes their hands then sits down, not wanting to get too wet.

"What're you three guys doin' here?... Can't say I remember this guy..." he says pointing to Trent, "but I couldn't forget the work this guy Fido did for me. Hey 8-ball how you holdin' up?"

"Good. I'm doin good. All three of us though, we were hoping you had some work..."

"I do." Tony says reassuringly, lighting a cigar, "Three man job sounds perfect for what I had in mind. If this guy you got..."

"Trent."

"Trents a new guy, he might not want a job like this one. It's big and it's not easy, I can guarantee a huge cut."

The man who told the story gets up from the table. "I think I'll see you later Tony."

"Yeah okay man, don't get into too much trouble." The man walks out and Tony turns to 8-ball, "You should here that guy's story it's great, it's about a job that got real fucked up, diamond heist. Good stuff, cops getting their ears cut off and shit like that, I love it..." Tony takes a puff of his cigar, "Oh yeah, where the hell were we?"

"Guarantying a huge cut..."

"Right, the place I'm talkin' about is huge business. A Diablo ring started about five months ago down by Portland Harbor. I didn't think anything of it at first, but lately they've been bringing in more money than the Federal Reserve. It's a bunch of crazy motherfuckers fighting, illegally, wrestling stuff you know. Anyway I want you to take their money, as much as you can, put in the back of a Sentinal and drive it back here, when you're done, I'll give you your cut. You can take anything extra that'll fit in your pocket. Okay? Sound good?"

"Yeah that sounds good." 8-ball says wiping his mouth, smiling

"I've got a paper here with all the details, the money's in a safe. So you'll have to get the combination from this guy in the Red Light named Lobo. Do ANYTHING to get that combo from him."

Safe Information:

The three of them drive down the Red Light in the Mafia Sentinal. Tony had supplied Trent with clothes; he was dressed in a black and white suit just like the rest of Tony's gang. He doesn't seem to fit in with Fido and 8-ball in the front seats. Fido's wearing his usual outfit, and 8-ball stopped off to get his lucky 8-ball jacket and a pair of blue jeans. Trent takes off the top part of the suit and replaces it with a red T-shirt and an overcoat, his pants didn't fit in with the suit anyway; they were black jeans. He picks up the piece of paper that Tony had given them.

Trent looks at the sheet of paper with a sort of confused recognition. 8-ball notices, and takes the paper from Trent.

"What?"

"I don't know, the name Lobo... sounds familiar to me for some reason."

"Really, I don't know if it's familiar to me or not? I mighta' heard it somewhere."

The three of them pull up next to a payphone and Trent looks out the window at the tall brick structure of the apartment complex. It's a Diablo owned apartment, they remove their guns, taking weapons or using them could get them killed, and none of them had a silencer to use. That was the reason Trent had temporarily changed his clothes, Diablos would shoot at anyone who looked like they might be from a rival gang.

"This is the place. What's the room number again?" Trent asks 8-ball.

"Five-seventeen."

They all get out of the car and head into the building, inside is a Diablo an old gangster with an arsenal on his left and piles of coke on his right. The place looked like a strong wind could blow it off its foundation, the bricks were cracked and the floor was covered in dust, soot, and cocaine. 8-ball steps up to the counter.

"Room five-seventeen would be on the fifth floor right?"

Trent turns to Fido and whispers, "I bet a living cop's never set foot in this place."

"No." the Diablo says to 8-ball, "Five-seventeen is on the second floor."

"The second floor?"

"Yeah..."

8-ball is confused but decides it's better not to ask questions, "Okay..."

"I hope your business goes well senor." The Diablo says as the three of them head up the stairs.

They all took the stairs for separate reasons. 8-ball had seen that the elevator wasn't working so he knew he had no choice. Fido did it purely for the exercise; he needed to stay in shape to stay alive. Trent had done it because he thought it would build tension, and because the two of them had, he would have been happy taking the elevator.

"Second floor five-seventeen. Second floor five seventeen."

8-ball continuously repeats it so that he can remember. They approach the second floor. Trent tightens his grip on a heavy steel baseball bat, preparing. The Diablo at the counter hadn't noticed the bat hidden on Trent's left side.

They walk through the dark hallway, and approach a room that says five-seventeen, it's totally random, all of the other doors had gone in numerical order, but five-seventeen was completely out of place. They stand to the left of the door.

"Ready...?" 8-ball asks Trent.

Trent and Fido both nod their heads yes. Fido puts his hand on the doorknob and turns it, slowly.

BAM! Bullets rip through the door blasting six holes through it in a collage of flying splinters. The man at the counter apparently had seen the baseball bat. Fido quickly runs to the right side of the door before it swings open, when it does he lunges forward like a cobra and decks Lobo in the side of the face knocking him violently to the ground. Then he stomps down hard on Lobo's hand, the pain gets to him and he accidentally pulls the trigger. The gun goes off and 8-ball jumps.

"Damn man! I almost got shot!"

Trent leans down and looks at 8-ball's shoe, there's a small hole in the rubber underneath 8-ball's toes.

"Lift him up." Trent says to the two of them. They lift Lobo up, who stands on his knees.

Trent leans down getting right in Lobo's face, he smiles darkly, suddenly.

"Hoooly shit!"

"What?" 8-ball asks him.

"Oh man," he says laughing, "This is just too fucking good!"

Trent takes out a pack of cigarettes and lights one up. He puffs on it for a half a second then leans in ominously towards Lobo, rainwater drips off the top of his head.

"I knew I'd seen you somewhere before," he blows the smoke in Lobo's face, "you're that guy I saw on T.V. The news right - the guy who killed five children - the child molester? You don't have to say anything; I know you'll just deny it. Like you did on T.V. They didn't have enough evidence, well believe me, now you're gonna' wish they had! I despise people like you; you give guys like us a bad name. People think because you're a criminal and a freak that all criminals are as fucked up as you, it's so easy to drop a label on someone. The word criminal is a cliché, it's the amount of shit you accumulate that makes you who you are, and you just keep building." Trent talks to him like he's talking to a friend he hasn't seen in years who has just recently screwed up his life.

Trent swings the bat downward, hitting Lobo diagonally across the chest. 8-ball and Fido could here the loud "THnK" of metal on bone the sound muffled by flesh and cloth. Fido and 8-ball feel Lobo go limp.

"Man what the fucked you do that for?"

"Man I didn't mean to do it, it was an accident."

"Accident? - "

"Yeah."

8-ball drops Lobo on his face.

"You killed the motherfucker!"

"Aww. Come on he ain't dead. He's just passed out - here get him in the room, before someone sees us.

Fido and 8-ball drag Lobo into room five-seventeen and throw him on the torn mattress of Lobo's king-sized bed. 8-ball looks around disgusted; the room is filled with roaches, the T.V. is on, but the back of it has been ripped out. Drugs, guns, and money are strewn across the floor, along with empty boxes, and rotting food.

"Jesus Christ!" 8-ball says, "Mexican's live like this?"

"Hey don't say shit like that, my first girlfriend was Mexican and she was a goddamn clean freak."

"I meant Mexican guys."

"I could give a flying fuck what you meant."

"Okay. Okay." 8-ball says itching to change the subject, "How the fuck are we gonna' wake him up? We got to get out of here fast."

Trent looks over at Fido and points to Lobo, "Hey Dog? Wake him up."

Fido steps forward and brings the bat down like an axe on Lobo's crotch. He jolts forward and screams in pain. 8-ball annoyed slams his hand against Lobo's throat.

"Will you shut the fuck up?!"

"I think you know what we're here for Lobo. If you don't tell us - what the combination to the safe is - I'm going to play baseball with your skull. Now what is it?" Trent asks him.

"Fuck you puta!"

"That is not a very nice thing to say Lobo.

Trent signals to Fido, who steps forward with the bat. Lobo looks up at it in horror.

"No, I swear to fucking god man if you do that I will KILL YOU!"

8-ball smiles, "He still thinks it's smart to be cocky."

Fido swings the bat, they hear that "THnK" sound again but this time it is much louder, it is closely followed by number of other sounds. Including a crackling that sounds like broken glass.

"Here that Lobo?" Trent asks, "I think my friend here just broke your fuckin' legs! Now was that worth it? Are you going to tell us the combination now or do we have to upgrade?"

"Fuck you! I'll tell you. You fuckin' bastards!"

"We're listening." 8-ball says.

"Twenty-five seventeen, anyone could figure that out. My rooms on the second floor 'two' and it's 'five-seventeen'. You Mafia guys are too fuckin' stupid to figure that out?"

"That's it then." 8-ball says "We got it let's go."

Before they leave Trent turns around and grabs the bat from Fido's hand. He looms ominously over Lobo. Lobo looks so scared, almost pisses on himself.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

"Like baseball?"

Lobo lets out one final 'NO!' than the bat smashes into his head. Trent continues to swing harder, faster. He slams it down so hard when he brings it up again blood trails the bat and streaks across the roof. His anger continues and the blood on the bat continues to flow through the room, again, and again, and again. Until it's unclear how many times he's hit him. 8-ball watches on with disgust he'd never seen Trent's anger so fueled. Trent abruptly stops swinging the bat after his long sprawl of violence. Frozen in time, he once again looms over the body, breathing heavily, calming down.

Fido comes over and places his hand on Trent's shoulder, not to comfort him; it seems more like a proud gesture.

"Man that was fuckin' crazy" 8-ball says to them. I never seen anything like that before. You fucking killed him!"

"Fucker deserved it too." Trent leans over and spits on the bloody corpse, "Fuckin' child molester."

"Let's go." Just as 8-ball says it an explosion rings out outside the building."

They get outside and can't find the source of the explosion, only rising smoke. They figure it doesn't concern them anyway.

Fido smiles happily as he notices the irony. The payphone they had parked next to was the same one that he used to take jobs on. They were going to rob a Diablo ring. The man who gave him the jobs over the phone was El Burro, the leader of the Diablos. 'I barely have loyalty at all' he says to himself.

Which was even funnier because that was one of the key sources in his nicknames 'Fido and Dog.' Mans best friend, companion, loyal, lapdog. He was none of the above in his mind, yet his nicknames were meant to reflect that.

His only loyalty lied within his true instinct for choosing his partners in crime. Usually he was good at it, but sometimes he slipped up. 8-ball was not a slip-up he was the most loyal of them all, so any of 8-ball's friends had to be worth hanging around. These three men would take a bullet for each other and that made them untouchable.

Trent smiled at his handiwork on the bat, wiped it off then got into the backseat of the Sentinal. Then Fido prepared to drive the three of them to their first real job.


	6. 4: Max

MAX:  
  
Max Payne parked the BF Injection on the road across the street from Portland Harbor. Watching the Black Mafia Sentinal slowly approach the Building. It was a fairly small place and Max could only guess what the three men would be doing going there. His best guess was a drug deal. Until they got out of the car, then he changed his mind.  
Trent gets out of the back and shoves a pistol into the front of his belt. He covers it quickly with his red T-shirt. The other white guy with him takes a shotgun and hides it in his baggy pant leg concealing it perfectly from view. He shakes his leg a couple times; the shotgun stays fairly firm without falling from his pants. The other man sees this and does the same thing; all of this is done on the right side of the car out of view of the front entrance.  
The three of them approach the front of the building. A man at the door looks at Trent suspiciously. Trent turns around and lifts his arms so that the doorman can search him. The man pats down Trent's side. Trent pulls his pistol from his belt and turns around jamming it into the doorman's chin.  
Max can see a brief dialogue before all four men enter the building. A loud sound explodes from inside. A gunshot. Max is terrified that Trent has shot the doorman. He jumps from the BF Injection and takes out his now famous double Berretta combination, running for the front entrance. He stops halfway there and points his guns at the door, waiting for them to come out.  
Shots can be coming from inside the building. The man with the leather jacket and Trent come out, the man with the jacket ahead of Trent. Trent has a full bag of something, probably money. The two of them are running to Max's right towards the rear of the Sentinal. Max lifts his two guns.  
"Freeze!"  
Neither man reacts, Max shoots at the Sentinal. The man in the leather jacket jumps inside and starts the car. Trent turns around slowly with his hands in the air along with his gun and the bag.  
"Well, well, well, Max Payne. How's it goin' Max."  
"Put the gun and the bag down on the ground and walk towards me."  
Trent lowers his hands down to his waist then he smiles at Max and shrugs. His face quickly changes and he aims his gun directly at Max. Max doesn't jump he just falls backwards as the bullets glide narrowly past him. He hits the pavement.  
Trent waves at the Mafia Sentinal screaming, "FIDO GO! GO! GO!"  
The car burns rubber than hauls ass away from the crime scene. Max had heard him say Fido, it was probably the worst alias Max had ever heard in his life.  
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! He fires up at Trent. Each shot was followed by the loud 'CLINK' of metal on metal. Max misses Trent with every shot hitting instead a Diablo Stallion that's parked near the building along with another Diablo Stallion and a Triad Fish Van. The other Stallion and the Fish Van take off in Fido's direction but the first one remains.  
Max gets to his feet. Trent jumps into the parked Diablo Stallion as four of Max's bullets alter the exterior narrowly missing Trent. Max hears the 'pat, pat, pat' of running steps in the rain behind him: the third guy. The Diablo Stallion drives away but it swerves wildly out of control, like something is wrong.  
'Maybe I hit him' Max thinks. He ignores it and decides to focus on the last man. He doesn't chase him very long before deciding to fire into the air. The man stops and slowly turns around.  
"Hey 8-ball."  
"Do I know you?"  
"No I don't know you either. Do you really call yourself 8-ball? I saw your shop... and I heard that you were dead."  
"I am... Max Payne right I read about you, Mr. 'Mafia Killer' fugitive New York cop. Heard you can dodge bullets, sure you don't want to make a cut. You can make a fortune as a criminal. Bullet Dodger."  
"After my wife died, each of my feet have always stood on either side of a very shady line between criminal and cop, but I've always been more cop. Sorry 8-ball." Max says sarcastically.  
"Then you ain't gonna' like what happens next." 8-ball raises his shotgun and quickly pumps it and pulls the trigger.  
Max jumps and has no chance to fire back; shotgun pellets stretch, it was hard enough trying to dodge them without having to fire at the same time. Eventually Max does it but misses every shot. Max had only jumped to his right slightly; he was still on his feet. The shotgun pellets had just missed his belly.  
After they glided past him, time went back to normal. They speed up, and Max looks to where they go. They strike a Triad only inches away from Max, right in the legs and around the crotch. He falls down screaming.  
A whole group of about eight Triads had been standing behind Max the whole time; they blamed Max for most of the damage done to their friend because he had moved away from the blast.  
They scream at him for a few minutes in Chinese, of course he can't understand them. Most of them raise their weapons at him. He has no choice he frantically blows hole in them. Hitting them in random places. One of the men is hit twice in the chest and falls backwards. A familiar Diablo Stallion swerves by and the Triad slams into it hard, the blow kills him, and his blood paints the door of the car.  
Max gets a grip on himself, pops some painkillers and looks at the bloody massacre. Then a realization hits Max like a ton of bricks.  
  
8-ball is gone. 


	7. 4: Trent 8ball & Fido

FIDO TRENT & 8-BALL:  
  
Fido had driven the car to Portland Harbor from the Red Light. He was in an area where the Triad's factory could almost be seen to the right of the Diablo 'wrestling ring'. He circled around the street so that the car's left side would be facing the building and the front would be pointing towards the road to Eddie's Auto Parts to ensure a quick getaway.  
The rendezvous point wasn't Eddie's that was just a precaution; the real rendezvous was to drive to Tony's place. Which was dangerous because the quickest way there guaranteed a close personal look at Liberty's finest: the police station. Still, that was the fastest way out of their territory that gave them a good chance to shake loose anyone chasing them.  
They all got out on the right side of the car to obscure the view of the doorman. Trent hides a pistol in the front of his shirt and covers it to the best of his ability, which turns out to be pretty good. Fido grabs a shotgun from the floor of the car and hides the gun in his pants, it seems to fit well in his pant leg, he shakes his foot to be sure, 'solid'. 8-ball looks at Fido then grab a shotgun from the floor of the car as well.  
"That's a good idea." He says smiling. Then he copies what Fido had done, jamming the shotgun into his pant leg.  
None of them had talked until that point, the tension was building and this job was going to be hard. Luckily, Tony had generously supplied them with an arsenal that a small army would be envious of, the floor of their Sentinal looked like they had robbed Ammunation.  
Trent looks at 8-ball then at Fido, "You ready to do this."  
They all walk up to the front of the building, the doorman eyes Trent suspiciously. He plays cool and turns his back to the doorman raising his arms. The doorman quickly pats down his sides. Trent snaps the gun away from his belt and turns violently jamming the barrel into the man's chin.  
"This what you're lookin' for?"  
The man smiles, "Somethin' to that effect yeah..."  
"Get your ass in there!" 8-ball says shoving the man inside.  
The level floor is a cover, they quickly move down the stares. The bottom floor is huge. They are in a narrow underground hallway, to the left of them is an arena cleverly built and soundproof, to the right of them is a roomful of people counting money. Bags of it are everywhere but Tony had said to get what was in the safe, so - just in case - they would have to open the safe.  
Trent fires a shot into the air, and all the men stop counting.  
"Everbody move your fuckin' asses to this corner of the room on my right, though it is next to the door I guarantee you wouldn't make it if you run. If ANY of you want to live I suggest you shut the fuck up and do what your told."  
Most of them quickly move to the corner of the room, but one of them stands where he is, like he's terrified.  
"You understand English man? Do what everyone else's doin'."  
The man, wide eyed, pulls a gun from his coat and points it at Trent. Shaking, he doesn't get a chance to pull the trigger. All three of them shoot him at the same time; two shotgun blasts and four 9mm bullets rip gaping holes, tearing flesh. The gory display is a warning to all.  
"See what happened to him?" 8-ball says, he grabs one of the counters by the shirt and lifts him up tossing him in front of the safe. "Open it,"  
"I don't know the combi-"  
"I know the combination just open the safe." He pulls back the pump on the shotgun and sticks it in his face, "Twenty-five seventeen."  
The safe's lock is an unusual rolling number lock, four knobs with numbers lined up next to each other. The man shakily manages to put in the combination. The safe clicks and pops open. Inside is a tied bag 8-ball grabs it and throws it to Trent. They all grab a small share from other bags. Then Trent and Fido rush up the stairs. 8-ball stays behind them, moving slowly, on short-term guard duty.  
Fido and Trent dart out the door, they are stunned when they are confronted by a man in a leather jacket holding to handguns in their direction. Trent recognizes the man immediately; Max Payne.  
Fido sprints towards the car, his lungs feel like he's been drowning in a vat of acid, the amount of panic is setting in. He was always terrified of getting caught, and he was going to make sure that that was never going to happen again.  
"Freeze!"  
The bullets wiz past the Sentinal as Fido finally makes it inside. Though he'd only ran a few yards it seemed like it took him forever to make it to the car. He sits impatiently waiting on Trent.  
"Well, well, well, Max Payne. How's it goin' Max." Trent can't believe his eyes. New York City had sent Max Payne after him. He'd only met Max once busted for possession.  
"Put the gun and the bag down on the ground and walk towards me."  
'Max Payne always trying to be professional.' Trent thinks to himself.  
Trent had heard that Max could dodge bullets, he wasn't going to kill him, but he needed Max to slow down. Just in case he actually hit Max, he'd have to try and get him in the shoulder. He lowers his arms then quickly springs one arm back up and fires a few bullets in Max's direction.  
Max hits the ground, and Trent sees his window.  
He waves to Fido, "FIDO GO! GO! GO!"  
Fido takes off without hesitation. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! A ray of bullets fly past Trent, he hears 'CLINK, CLINK, CLINK' the sound of fractured metal. Trent knew that sound, Max was hitting a car. He spots two Diablo Stallions and a Triad Fish Van. The Stallion and the Van take off towards the Fido.  
Trent runs frantically for the parked Stallion four bullets almost catch his right side as he jumps into the car. A rock-hard pain strikes him dead on the left side of his face, and he drops his gun.  
8-ball saw Fido and Trent leave without him he doesn't blame them, or even care, but now he was stuck. The splash of his running footstep gives him away.  
  
He's caught. 


	8. 5: Trent

TRENT:  
  
Aftermath:  
  
Trent jumps into the parked Diablo Stallion, as four bullets puncture the exterior dangerously close to him. Suddenly the right side of his face is struck hard. He drops his gun on the floor. The pain is followed quickly by a throbbing sensation, then slowly by numbness.  
He had failed to spot the Diablo in the driver's seat possibly waiting for someone. The man had a swing on him as hard as a wrecking ball and he continued to frantically deliver blows to Trent's head, neck, and back.  
Trent leans forward to pick up his gun, but to no avail. Again, he's struck dead on in the face, as the car rolls away uncontrollably. He tries several times to pick up the gun each time he is struck harder.  
Shooting starts outside, Trent can only wonder if 8-ball made it. A man slams savagely into the right side of the car blanketing the windsheild in blood, it's totally unexpected and Trent seizes the opportunity.  
He leans towards the Diablo and violently swings his fist slamming closed fingers directly on the man's nose, it shatters. The frenzied Diablo is shocked beyond belief, and scared to death, as seemingly endless amounts of blood spew from his nostril with every panic breathe.  
Trent jumps at the floor of the car and yanks up the pistol, then points it point blank at the Diablos face. Trent screams. "I swear I'm going to blow your head off motherfucker!"  
The Diablo screams and grabs Trent's wrist jamming it inbetween the front windshield and the dashboard. The gun goes off several times. The Diablo reaches inside his belt buckle and pulls out a Colt Python. The Diablo screams something in spanish then points the gun at Trents face.  
Trent unexpectedly reacts very little to the gun itself, instead he stares out the window and slowly lowers himself in his seat. He'd spotted 8- ball with a Desert Eagle in his hands outside. The Diablo looks through the winshield quickly to see what's wrong. As he does bullets slash the car open, sending tiny pieces of glass and metal flying everywere.  
One bullet sends the final web-like pattern through the left windshield as the car drives past 8-ball. This final bullet slams into the Diablos forehead right above his left eyebrow and out the back of his head.  
Trent rises from his crouched position and realizes he doesn't have enough time to throw the Diablo out. He gets back into a new laying position, his feet on the left door, his head on the right, and he begins to pray for his life. He heads right for a black Mafia Sentinal, the Sentinal barely makes it past him unscathed.  
The Diablo Stallions soars through a glass display case, then it's struck at full speed by another Diablo stallion. The two collisions combined caused Trent to fly to his right from his laying position and his head and shoulder slams into the dashboard. His shoulder dislocates, and as he feels the world fade away from him laying quitley, his head painfully swelling. He begins to loose the pain, and the world around him, the darkness takes him.  
"Trent! TRENT!"  
His eyes open and the world is clear again, "8-ball? That you?" his words are meant to be screams, but they come as only whispers. He looks to his left and spots a metalic shotgun wedged between the two seats of the Diablo Stallion.  
He groggily lifts himself up onto the seat and grabs the gun from behind the seats and puts his back to the door. He finds the energy to reach behind himself with his left hand and opens the door. He falls out onto the ice cold asphalt on rocky chunks of car glass. He has no more energy in him, the shotgun is on his arm with the dislocated shoulder, if anyone wanted to kill him he'd be a dead man.  
He stares up at the gray skies of Liberty as heavy but refreshing raindrops fall on his face. Rain it seemed, was something to be respected. A dark figure appears overhead and he squeezes the trigger out of fear, to his surprise it goes of and the figure is blasted out of view.  
Trent uses his overcoat sleeve and wipes the traces of blood off his face then manages to get the energy to roll around. He spots the man he'd shot, it was another armed Diablo. He just shot a Diablo in the middle of a crowded street only yards away from a Police Station.  
'I'm fucked!' he thinks to himself getting to his feet.  
He walks towards his Stallion, surveying the area, he spots another Diablo across from him on the other side of the car, next to the second Stallion. He doesn't have the strength to lift his right arm, from what he knows, but he'd do anything he could to survive. He gets ready, hiding on the right side of the car by the wheel. He jumps up and is ready to fire a round into the Diablo when several shots ring out in that direction.  
Horrified he quickly snaps himself back into the crouching position. Then he slowly lifts his head. The Diablo is gone replaced by Twenty or so Triads, staring at a bloody corpse.  
He grabs the money out of the Stallion then looks around for 8-ball. 'Maybe it was just my imagination,' he thinks to himself.  
  
He takes one final look at the Triads, hiding his shotgun below the car, the Triads do nothing and he limps away with his money. 


	9. 5: 8ball

8-BALL:  
  
Aftermath:  
  
Gunshots ring out behind 8-ball. He knows what to do, he stops and turns around. He knows who it is of course, almost everyone had heard of the famous New York cop who could dodge bullets.  
"Hey 8-ball."  
8-ball is surprised that Max new his name, "Do I know you?" the only thing he can think of is Max had called in a background check. "No I don't know you either. Do you really call yourself 8-ball? I saw your shop... and I heard that you were dead." Yeah, he'd definately called in a background check. He was talking about his bomb shop, and reports read that 8-ball and Fido had died in an explosion several years earlier.  
"I am..." 8-ball says jokingly, "Max Payne right I read about you, Mr. 'Mafia Killer' fugitive New York cop. Heard you can dodge bullets, sure you don't want to make a cut. You can make a fortune as a criminal. Bullet Dodger." 8-ball was only half joking, he was hoping that Max might possibly take him up on his offer.  
"After my wife died, each of my feet have always stood on either side of a very shady line between criminal and cop, but I've always been more cop. Sorry 8-ball."  
"Then you ain't gonna' like what happens next." he raises his shotgun.  
Not unlike Trent, 8-ball would rather not go to jail for killing a cop, 8-ball didn't want to kill anybody. That was probably the biggest difference between him and Fido. While Fido always had a reason for killing someone, business or otherwise, 8-ball never saw a reason to kill anyone except survival.  
He'd gotten into the business because he like the excitment, of car chases and shootouts, and especially bombs. The people he delt with, he tried to make sure they had a good reason for going to his shop, and he often reversed the product onto the costumer when he heard they were going to use it on children. He also remembered that people die every day thousands of people, and if they didn't the the world would be overpopulated. Besides it's not his fault who gets caught up in this stuff, he didn't necessarily beleive in fate but he believed in the nature of the world.  
He thinks to himself, 'I hope you can really dodge bullets.' and he pulls the trigger. to his amazement Max jumps only slightly, he turns on his heals, and curves his upper-body, leaning forward slightly.  
The shot jolts forward and blasts a Triad in the crotch. 'Holy shit!' he thinks to himself, wondering if he'd get more of the blame. To his surprise they blame the cop.  
He runs through portland harbor for a few minutes until he comes to a huge area with mostly yellow buildings around him. He comes to an area where the only thing around him is a fenced off area to his left, and a yellow building to his right. Exhausted he decides to take a breather.  
He is approached by three Triads coming from the same direction he was, walking towards him, the one in the middle has a baseball bat. 'I'm a dead man.'  
He had an idea why they were aproaching him, he'd done a job in their territory without permission. He walks up to Triad in the middle. He doesn't hesitate he slams his fist into the Triads face, the hard smacking sound of a right hand. The Triad hits the concrete. "Motherfucker!" 8-ball quickly grabs the baseball bat and hits the guy to his right directly in the stomach, then in the head as he falls. He quickly turns his attention to the man on his left, he kicks him into the steal fence and beats him repeatedly with the bat until the man slips into unconsciousness.  
He catches his breathe then looks down at the unconscious Triad. A Desert eagle is tucked frimly in his belt. 8-ball grabs it and drops the bat. Then he walks towards a grass field near the Police Station. Before he moves a foot away, a hand grabs him from the ground. It's the man 8-ball had decked in the face. He has 8-ball's foot with his left hand, and his right hand is pointing a Barretta directly at 8-ball.  
8-ball jumps back when he sees the gun and accidentally pulls the trigger. Shooting the Triad in the spinal cord on his neck.  
Suddenly a Diablo Stallion rolls towards him at high speeds, he has no choice. He fires blindly as it zooms forward. It narrowly misses him and he fires his last shot at the car into the left windshield. The front and left windsheild are splashed with blood. He got him.  
He had turned all the way around following the car as it moved while he was shooting at it. Now he just watched it roll on gaining speed through the grass feild.  
A Black Sentinal shoots through the road on the other side of the field. A Diablo Stallion close behind. The Sentinal narrowly misses contact with the speeding Diablo car that 8-ball had shot. The other Stallion however was not so lucky. It slams hard into the left side of the other Diablo car, which flies through a glass display case. A speeding Triad Fish van swerves past the wreckage in pursuit of the Mafia Sentinal.  
8-ball is shocked. He just remembers, 'Trent was in a Diablo Stallion!' He runs through the grass field towards the accident.  
"Trent! TRENT!" He doesn't get any further, a hard crack is heard behind him. A fierce pain to the back of his skull. He hits the soft wet ground, and smells the scent of moist grass before his final thoughts enter his head. 'I'm dying.'  
  
Then 8-ball fades into a black world, where nothing exists. 


	10. 5: Fido

FIDO:  
  
Aftermath:  
  
Fido had been waiting for Trent to get into the Sentinal, and was growing impatient. Luckily he hears what he'd wanted to hear the whole time.  
"FIDO GO! GO! GO!" he looks back as Trent waves both arms at him. He steps on the gas and tears away form the crime scene. He drives for a few seconds in the direction they'd decided on. When he gets to a basketball court a Diablo Stallion and a Triad Fish van swerve around the corner towards him.  
The Stallion gets close and makes contact with Fido's bumber. He grabs his shotgun and steadies the wheel with his back as he quickly fires a shell at the Stallion. He hits it on the hood and it begins to smoke. He hastily grabs the wheel. and swerves the car towards the Police Station.  
To his right, another Diablo Stallion roars towards him. He has no way of knowing whether it will make contact or not. He breathes again when it doesn't hit him. Then jumps as a metallic explosion peirces his eardrums. He looks back at the carnage, two Stallions intertwined by one fierce impact.The Stallion that had chased him was obviously not as lucky as he was. He can only hope that the Triad Fish Van had suffered the same fate.  
It didn't, the Van comes around the impact towards him. It was times like this Fido wished he could talk then if he could, he'd be able to call Tony and get some boys down here right away. He couldn't talk because Catalina his ex-girl had left him for dead. His instincts were almost never wrong when he chose his partners in crime.  
They weren't even wrong that time, when he chose her she was perfect for the kind of life he had in mind, his instincts for choosing didn't betray him, but Catalina did. As he would have put it 'The bitch double crossed him during a job.' She had aimed both of her handguns in his face and told him she was ambitious, as if he wasn't. The first shot entered his brain. The doctors told him that the brain damage had effected - partially - his ability to speak. The other thing that effected his speach was that the other shot had entered his throat.  
The doctors did a spectacular job reconstructing his neck, and told him he would be able to speak in no time, with enough therapy. Fido realized after three months of Therapy that, he no longer wanted to talk. It was a waste of time and a serious burden on the person listening, all they wanted to do was be heard themselves. Also he didn't believe the doctors where right. He could never even get any noise to come out of his mouth except the sound of breathing.  
Not talking gave him freedom, freedom to listen, freedom from wasted time, and freedom to think. Now he practically needed to talk, but he knew he'd never get the words out.  
He was now near Leone's old place, he begins to slow down the car a little and reaches towards his feet pulling up an Uzi from under the brake pedal. He fires it at the Fish van, as it too begins to slow down. A line of destruction moves from the grill of the van towards the windshield and hits a passanger Triad several times in the chest. Fido stops the car, and gets out shutting the door. He reaches inside and grabs a shotgun from the seat.  
He pulls his left hand back, ejecting a shell from the shotgun and walks towards the Triad Fish van. The driver of the van struggles for a few seconds trying to remove his gun from his belt. He does and fires several shots at Fido, who neither reacts nor moves away. The gunshots echo and seem to continue on through infinite time and space.  
Fido gets to the left side of the van and yanks the door open. The Triad almost fires at him, he's struck down before it happens, his body flies backward and blood splashes everywhere around Fido.  
He looks around as several Mobsters stare at him. He spots keys in the ignition, entering he pulls them out and walks towards the back of the van. He waves to the mobsters on all sides of him, and they come running. He takes the second key and sticks it in the lock. Then he flings the door open jumping backwards. The Mobsters get in front of him.  
Inside the van is an unbelievable amount of armed Triads. Some of them injured from the chase. There are only eight mobsters and twenty or thirty Triads. The Mobsters had something the Triads didn't, the element of surprise, they also had shotguns. They violently blow holes in the Triads taking them out in huge numbers within an unbelievable amount of time. The Triads had gotten two of the eight Mobsters.  
The last Triad cowers in the back right hand corner of the van crying for his life. The six mobsters laugh then blow him away in the most gruesome display that even Fido himself had taken part in. Bits of the Triad's flesh tear from his body and warm blood covers the seven men and the inside of the van, as the final man is literally torn to pieces.  
Fido stands in the cold rain looking at the massacre with interest. 'So much blood' he couldn't help but think it, as it poured like a small waterfall from the van mixing with the rain water. Fido never liked murder, he was constantly misunderstood by his employers. He was just the only one who didn't mind it. There was not reason to fear death, and it wasn't as if he was taking the life of the person who would cure cancer. Even if he did, the man's chosen profession or who he messed with wasn't Fido's problem. He did what he was good at, and it was true, killing for him was easy, but he would never like it.  
In lots of ways Fido could be considered heartless for not caring about murderer, not from his point of view, death was just another part of life. Fido knew that 8-ball on the other hand, was in denial about murder and came up with excuses for what he did because he was a good soul. Fido realized 8-ball might not be on the job for very long that's why he was happy to do any job that was thrown at him as long as 8-ball was involved. He wanted to keep 8-ball in the business, because 8-ball's the first guy he didn't have to almost kill in prison to get respect from. He was a true friend and a genuine business man, and loosing 8-ball was bad for both.  
Fido smiled one final time at the massacre, he couldn't believe he'd survived all of that. Even now it still amazed him. He turns around and Trent emerges limping up the hill, next to Marco's Bistro holding the bag full of money and a blood covered silver shotgun.  
Fido walks towards him smiling. Trent looks up and spots Fido for the first time. "Hey Fido how's it goin' man." he says sleepily.  
Fido takes his hand horizontally does the back and forth motion, the symbol for 'so so.'  
"That's good. Hey I got the money." he holds up the bag. Fido grabs it and runs towards the Sentinal and throws it through the window. Then goes back to Trent.  
"We got to find 8-ball."  
  
Trent smiles, eyes glazed over, "Hey man... I think I got a concussion." 


	11. 6: 8ball

8-BALL:  
  
The Lucky 8-ball:  
  
8-ball wakes up, luckily he's not dead. It should surprise him but he can't think straight, he drifts periodically in and out of cosciousness. First he wakes up and doesn't know where he is. There is only darkness, and the sound like rolling tires. The second time he comes to consciousness, he sees the darkness lift away, and the bright daylight hurts his eyes.  
He doesn't realize it but two men look down on him. Diablos, and they pull him from the trunk.  
"We gonna' have fun with you homes." the words echo in his head as he finally comes to full consciousness, and the world is finally real.  
He wakes up in a dark room, with only a dim light illuminating overhead. Both of the Diablos are somewhere in the darkness. He can't see them, and he's not even sure they're there.  
"Hello... HEY! Where the FUCK am I!! Hey ASSHOLES!" he shifts around in his chair. His hands are cuffed and pulled behind the chairs backrest. His right leg is cuffed, the chain is wraped around the front-right chair leg, and then cuffed to his left leg. This makes it so that if he tries to kick at them, one of two things will happen, one; the chair leg will block him from doing it, and two; the chair will break causing him to fall over.  
"Hey anybody there?" he feels the hot blood on his lip. They beat him while he was unconscious, 'What a bunch of pussies.' he spits the blood out of his mouth. His head pulses like a beating heart.  
"What the fuck am I doing HERE!"  
Finally a Diablo steps forward into view. He's tall well built, and muscular. He has a stare that would kill.  
"Yo, you're awake? Hey Pedro 8-ball's awake!"  
"Good, you deal with him." Pedro's voice comes from somwhere else that 8-ball can't see.  
"Do I know you mothafuckas? 'Cause to tell you the truth I thought I'd remember your ugly ass!"  
"My name is Fausto, and this is my brother Pedro. A few years ago I used to get bombs from your shop. That jacket is a dead givaway man, your shops are everywhere, and if one of your bombs killed somebody, their family would know just how to find you to get revenge."  
"Is that why I'm here?"  
"No. Except for the part about revenge. You see, you stole from our business, I'm going kill you. For two reasons, the first is because my employer told me to -"  
"El Burro?"  
"Not that it matters but no. The second reason, is because I want to. And I'm going to use this..." Fausto steps out of the darkness and emerges with a huge yellow black and gray metallic mass, a very disturbing feeling washes over 8-ball as he looks at the chainsaw.  
He again begins to shift around in panic in his chair. He looks around him, plastic is layed beneath his feet covered in dry sticky blood. The chair he sits in is covered in blood, dry, the wood is literally painted with it.  
"Hey Pedro? You want to watch?"  
"Fuck no dog, your fuckin' crazy. I'll be standin' out here, gaurd duty you know."  
"You fuckin' pussy."  
8-ball hears the door shut behind Pedro. Fausto takes a chair and moves in towards 8-ball. Setting the chainsaw on the plastic.  
"You know what I'm going to do now 8-ball? I'm going to take this chainsaw, and I'm going to cut you into as many pieces as I can before you die. No matter what, I will kill you. You can make it faster, IF you tell me where I can get my employers money. If you DON'T, then it will be a slower more painful death. After I'm done killing you, my boys are going to take down each and every one of your bombshops. Fausto stands up and kicks his chair out of the way, then lifts the chainsaw up off the ground and revs it up. "What do you think, pretty cool huh? Just like that movie Scarface --"  
click  
"-- what the fuck?"  
8-ball stands up and the chain on his feet springs up and knocks the chair onto the ground. 8-ball now has both hands at his sides, his right hand is holding his 'lucky needle' as his left wrist dangles the unlocked cuff.  
The man swings the chainsaw at 8-ball's left side, before he makes contact he's stabbed in the neck by 8-balls syringe and the force of 8- ball's blow knocks him off his feet. Fausto reaches for the chainsaw but 8- ball's foot smashes him in the stomach, then 8-ball's hand reaches down and lifts up the chainsaw. Fausto panics and jumps at 8-ball who shoves the saw into Fausto's gut. Blood sprays everywhere and 8-ball freaks as it sprinkles his face. He turns the chainsaw off.  
Fausto's body drops to the plastic below and 8-ball stands, staring, stunned. He wipes the blood off his face and walks towards the door. Reluctantly, he knocks.  
"Fausto...Fausto, is that you?  
8-ball revs up the chainsaw and shoves it through the door as fast as he can. The metal tears through wood like butter and blood covered splinters shoot through 8-ball's skin. He screams in pain and drops the chainsaw to the floor, dropping to his knees.  
He looks at his hands and begins to pull splinters out one by one, it was like peices of grass covered his hands, pulling them out so slowly was useless. He gets to his feet, for a moment he watches the blood drip from his hands.  
He drops the chainsaw on the ground and opens up the door, pushing Pedro's dead body out of the way. He's in a dimly lit hallway, that just looks like an extension of the torture room. The walls and floors are damp concrete. He looks at Pedro's dead body, a baseball bat is gripped firmly in his left hand. 8-ball picks it up and moves down the hallway.  
He walks up to the door a foot away from the one he was in, the next door, and put his hand on the knob. He slowly turns the doorknob and peeks inside. This room looks like a regular apartment, three men sit on one couch watching a football game on T.V. on the coffee table in front of them is a Playboy Magazine, Sports Illustrated, TIME, and a fully loaded Colt Python.  
The three men stop cheering and turn their attention towards the door, towards 8-ball. The man in the middle quickly reaches for the gun, 8- ball swings the bat 'CLNK' it makes contact with his nose. 8-ball drops the bat on the ground and snatches up the Python sending a bullet flying through the right eyeball of the man on the left. The man on the right jolts to his left reaching around the armrest for his gun, which sits on the floor below. He's gunned down before he makes it, three shots are delivered to his chest.  
8-ball picks up the gun the man was going for, empty. He tosses it on the floor and looks at the man in the middle. He has his head leaned back on the backrest of the couch, holding his bloody nose.  
8-ball raises his gun and squeezes the trigger, the bullet shoots through the man's chin and rips through the back of his skull leaving the wall behind him scarred with blood.  
The man on the right is still alive, wheezing, conscious, 8-ball raises the gun to put the man out of his misery, he pulls the trigger, and misses, a hole less than an inch above the mans head. He has no choice he walks away.  
He comes to the end of the hallway and finds a room marked GUNS. He pushes the revolving door open and finds a room rich with light, crates, and guns. He grabs an M9, bullets for his Colt Python, and two Uzi's, he hides them all in various places. He takes a combat knife off of a shelf and tears open a bag of gunpowder. He reaches inside his pocket and pulls it inside out then rips it from it's stitching. The pain is nearly unbearable because of the splinters. He fills the pocket with gunpowder, grabs a shotgun, and walks out into the halway.  
He methodically pulls the lacing from Pedro's shoe then ties the pocket with it, and goes through one of the doors on his right. This leads him into another hallway, a familiar hallway. He was in the Diablo owned apartment, the apartment where Trent had killed Lobo.  
He heads straight for the stairs. He walks down the first flight with no problems. He decides it's better to be careful, he pumps a shell into the chamber of his shotgun. The second flight he comes to a man comes by with a little girl. 8-ball puts his finger to his lips, and signals to them to go up the stairs.  
The third flight, a very young teenage looking Diablo approaches, unaware of 8-ball's presence. He pops his bubblegum and looks up the stairs. 8-ball is at the top pointing a shotgun at him.  
"Don't move!"  
"What the fuck..."  
"I'm just trying to get the fuck out of here man." 8-ball doesn't even realize how bad he looks, covered in blood, it stains his clothes and drips from his hands. "You can understand that right? You try anything fuckin' stupid I will blast you to hell! Do you understand me?"  
The kid blindly reaches for a gun and is instantly shot into the wall behind him. Blood streaks across the wall as he falls, taking his last breathe. 8-ball lifts his shirt, and finds a Desert Eagle. He tucks it in his belt and looks to his right. On the stairs is another Diablo.  
"Hey boss there's this fuckin' ess--"  
8-ball snatches up the Eagle again and strikes him down, he jolts slamming into the wall on his right struggling to keep the blood from flowing through his neck he falls down the stairs. 8-ball runs down into the lobby. Two men gaurd the front door. He bolts for a room, inside are two men holding shotguns 8-ball doesn't hesitate, he pumps them full of lead, using his Colt Python and M9. Then he picks up the shotguns and aims them both at the door.  
The two men who were guarding the door bust in and they both get simultaneous blasts right in the stomach. He throws the shotguns on the ground and decides to toss the Python.  
He looks towards a window and decides to climb through it, he slips and sprains his ankle landing next to a dumpster. A Diablo stallion pull up and eight Diablo's approach him, not including the two in the car.  
'I'm in hell!' he thinks to himself.  
"Yo, dog, I heard shooting in there, what's goin' on man."  
"Those guys in there, they all fuckin' killed each other."  
"Really, now why don't I believe you."  
8-ball looks down at himself examining the bloody mess. He looks like a psychopath. "Shit!"  
The men go for their guns and 8-ball has no choice, he reaches in his coat pocket and pulls out the dual Uzis he aims high shooting rounds of bullet into the Diablo's heads. He jumps up on the hood of the Diablo Stallion and drops the empty Uzis on the ground. He grabs his M9 and Desert Eagle. The two men in the car are unnarmed and he punches holes through the window blasting glass and blood into thin air. He manages to kick through the front windshield despite his sprained ankle, and he removes it like paper.  
He pulls the two dead men from the car and gets inside. He drives away from the building with blood-soaked front seats, and no windshield.  
  
The rain pound his face as he drives and he thinks to himself, 'This is my fuckin' lucky day!" 


	12. 7: Max

MAX:  
  
Max sits at a payphone outside a large Diablo apartment complex, holding the reciever to his ear, trying to hear over gunshots. His boss was on the other line comfortably drinking coffee in his easy-chair.  
"This is the most unproffessional investagation I've ever been sent on!"  
"Remember not to think of it as an investagation Max, think of it as a killing spree."  
"I really don't think I'm going to fully enjoy working in this department anymore."  
"Relax Max, I was only kidding. You know what I mean, I sent you down there to take out scumbags. Remember Max, these are the same kind of people who got your wife and baby girl, shouldn't that mean something to you."  
"You're right," he said hanging up the phone, he finishes the sentence in his head, 'but it doesn't.'  
He looks over at the Diablo Apartment as gunshots grow louder and louder. Out of the side window of the building a man falls out covered in blood. He gets to his feet, limping, as several Diablos approach him.  
'Holy shit, it's 8-ball' 8-ball skillfully snatches two guns from his pocket and wastes them like it was the St.Valantines Day massacre, none of them even had time to react. Max can't believe it 8-ball takes all of the Diablos out with no problem at all yet he looks like he's been through hell and back.  
8-balls hands leak blood as Max watches him fire holes through glass. 8-ball removes the two men from the Stallion and starts to drive in Max's direction with no windshields. Max tries to find a place to hide but can't, too late now. 8-ball steps on the gas and Max feels the pain hit him in slow motion, 'goddamn I hate it when that happens' he thinks to himself. He gets a grip so that the pain won't last as long, and his slow motion perception stops. He slides over the hood of the car again and violently his face smacks the pavement, he feels a burning sensation in his mouth, and sees the blood slide slowly across the rocky ground away from his face.  
Max hears a car door open and footsteps, "You motherfucker!" 8-ball says grabbing Max's arms he lifts him up off the ground.  
"What... The hell are you... gonna' do?" Max asks him.  
"I don't know what I'm going to do, not completely anyway. See that doesn't matter though, 'cause now I got a car. That means I got a trunk, and I can keep you in there until I figure out what the fuck I'm going to do."  
"Oh great," Max smiles, before he can get another word out 8-ball punches him in the face and shoves him in the trunk.  
  
Then there was only pain. 


	13. 6: Trent & Fido

TRENT & FIDO  
  
Trent and Fido are in Momma's Restaurant in Harwood, the deep voiced Italian opera music in the background, and the calming dim lights over a dark colored warm setting. Fido stands over Trent completely uninjured, while Trent himself is not doing too well.  
A hired doctor, and David Duchovny lookalike, is making an unheared of house call, to a restaurant. He presses his thumb up to Trent's head examining him.  
A chef walks in holding a telephone, he approaches Tony Cipriani.  
"Tony, these Diablo's on the phone said that they got 8-ball. They said 'they wanted us to know that we're gonna' pay' then they said they're gonna kill 8-ball, and blow up all of his bomb shops one by one."  
"We can't let them blow up 8-ball's bombshops!" Trent says, eyes drooping.  
"They said, they were going to kill him," Tony says, "I like 8-ball too, but there's no point in protecting a dead man's property."  
"You get a lot of money from 8-ball's shops, and I think that 8-ball can make it out alive. Whether he is or not keeping the shops is still good for business." Trent tries to get 8-balls shops saved just in case 8-ball does survive.  
"Fine, I'll send a bunch of men to go down to 8-ball's bomb shops, you guys can go down to this one down here in Harwood."  
The doctor cuts in "I think it would be a bad idea to send him anywhere in the condition he's in. He's got a major cuncussion, probably some massive internal bleeding - but I can't tell for sure - and his shoulder's dislocated. You send him out there and he could die."  
"Dislocated huh? Just pop it back into place."  
"I was going to do that but the pain is excruciating, I thought he should be more prepared or something like that so that -"  
"Just fuckin' do it GODDAMN IT! I ain't got all fuckin' day doc."  
The doctor reluctantly leans over and yanks hard on Trent's arm. For the first time in the past hour Trent seems really awake, and pissed. He grabs the doctor by the collar and comes only inches from snapping his neck. He gets a grip on himself and finally lets go of the doctor.  
"There now you and Fido go to 8-ball's bombshop and stop those fuckers from blowing it up!"  
Trent smiles and gives him the thumbs up sign as he rises from the floor. The doctor is stunned.  
"You can't just send him out there like he's brand NEW! The dislocated shoulder was nothing, the massive bleeding and the concussion are completely different! You're gonna' KILL him!"  
"He's a grown fuckin' man doc. I can't stop him. Don't forget what I pay you for."  
"Yeah, sure, right sorry..." the doctor says pacing back and forth around tables, he wants to say something but he keeps his mouth shut.  
Trent stands up holding his shoulder, "Fido man, this is going to be fucking nuts! You up for it?"  
Fido smiles and puts a hand on Trent's shoulder, he winces from the pain.  
"Let's go then." Trent says to him, they both try to look cool leaving the building, Trent fails miserably.  
  
8-ball's bomb stop:  
  
It was getting dark in Liberty but the rain still hadn't stopped, Trent looked at it as an omen, Fido saw it as the weather.  
Trent and Fido arrive at 8-ball's bomb shop next to a car dealership. A white striped green Banshee is parked in the display window. Trent spots some Diablo Stallions, parked, hidden behind three old school buses.  
"There." Trent points to the Diablo Stallions and Fido nods his head. Fido pulls his car up next to the back of one school bus, and they both get out.  
"What're we gonna do?"  
Fido smiles and holds up a molotov cocktail.  
"What're you gonna' do with that?"  
Fido runs in the direction away from the road past the school buses and stops in the middle of a very large grass field. Trent manages to see what Fido is doing and moves as far away from the Diablo Stallion's as possible. Fido smiles slyly to himself as he light up the rag on the top of the bottle, then he hurls it through the air, the soaring ember storms down and strikes the side of one Stallion. Trent can hear the 'POP' sound of breaking glass.  
The fire begins to build then Fido covers his ears and ducks, seeing this Trent, as quick as he can, does the same.  
'BOOM!' BOOM!' BOOM!' All three Diablo Stallions are ripped to pieces and ingulfed in flames so large that the devil would be envious of them. The last explosion was dangerously close to 8-ball's shop. Luckily nothing happens to it.  
Fido would have laughed if he thought he could, instead he smiles at the eye popping brightness that came from the fire he created. The heat was overwhelming.  
Fido gets closer to the back of 8-ball's shop and a Diablo comes running out of the front towards the Stallions, Fido jumps out from hiding and blasts five rounds into his upper-body, the man falls backwards onto the ground, and his friend comes out running after him, realizing what happens he ducks and moves faster.  
Trent is hiding near the display window, the Diablo runs for the Banshee. Panicked he doesn't even see Trent. Trent jolts forward and slams his fist into the back of the Diablo's head, it sends him flying face first into the glass. Trent pulls his gun out and aims directly at the Diablo's face, pulling the hammer back.  
"Someday... I'm gonna' get killed doin' this shit!" Trent winces and pulls the trigger, the kickback of the gun causes his arm to hurt more, he sits down on the floor of the display room with his back to the wall.  
Fido bolts for the front of 8-ball's shop. Theres should be Diablo's inside, he's right there is.  
One of three Diabos is on the floor trying desperately to arm a bomb. Fido shoots one of them in the legs then when he hits the ground Fido quickly puts a bullet in his head. Another man raises a gun, pointing it directly at Fido's face. Fido is unimpressed, he fires a clean shot straight through the Diablo's heart. The Diablo screams in pain and falls on his stomach.  
The last Diablo doesn't even turn around at first he gets the bomb armed then he sees Fido, as if he hadn't heard the gunshots. He eyes Fido for a while then he pulls a gun.  
Fido fires stepping forward, the Diablo's hit in the shouler, Fido steps forward again, putting another bullet through the Diablo, this time it hits him on the right side of the chest in the lung. The Diablo refuses to give up. He fires at Fido, but another one of Fido's shot's causes his gunshot to be way off. Fido continues to fire, stepping closer creating, an avalanche of blood. The last gunshot Fido is standing only inches away from the man, he pulls the trigger and the the man's final wound erupts like a geyser after nine shots the Diablo finally falls down dead.  
  
Fido picks up the bloody bomb and walks out carrying it under his arm. 


	14. 7:8: 8ball

8-BALL:  
  
8-ball gets only feet away from the building when he spots Max Payne, looking around, frantically trying to find a place to hide. 8-ball can't believe it's him.  
"Holy shit..."  
He slams his foot down on the gas and the car slams into Max hard, Max slides across the hood and 8-ball quickly presses down on the brake and Max crashes to the ground. 8-ball gets out of the car, and approaches Max, "You motherfucker!" He lifts Max up off the ground, the splinters in his hands digging in deeper.  
"What... The hell are you... gonna' do?" Max asks him gritting his teeth painfully.  
"I don't know what I'm going to do, not completely anyway. See that doesn't matter though, 'cause now I got a car. That means I got a trunk, and I can keep you in there until I figure out what the fuck I'm going to do."  
8-ball reaches into the window of the car and presses a button, Max looks at the trunk as it opens.  
"Oh great," 8-ball smashes a fist into Max's face before he can get another word out, he didn't want to hear any of Max's famous one liners. He shoves him into the trunk and closes it.  
He checks his bandaged hands, he'd never taken the bandages off since he'd hurt them planting a bomb, he thought they looked really good, also it hid the fact that his hands looked like raw meat. His hand hurt like hell after punching Max, but the bleeding had become less profuse. Before it was flowing like a bathtub.  
He checks his bullets, none left. "Shit!" he has to get to his bomb shop, if he doesn't then the Diablos will blow them up. A black Sentinal drives by and 8-ball spots Fido and Trent, on the dashboard 8-ball gets a semi-clear view of a bomb, Trent's hand rested on it, 'God, he looks like shit!' but 8-ball knew now that his shop in Harwood was safe.  
Now he had to get to Shoreside Vale, he knew they would make it, but he feels the need to take out just one of those Diablo bastards for fucking with his business.  
He laughs getting into the car, 'This day's just getting better and better.'  
  
8-ball's bomb stop:  
  
He pulls the car outside his bomb shop, he can't find the Sentinal that Trent and Fido were in, he easily spots two others, but the one they were in he knew had bullet holes in it. He had the mob on his side, but it was harder to feel safe without his boys around. The shooting has already started.  
8-ball sneaks into a garage with a green van inside, he ducks in front of it's headlights, two Diablo's hold a conversation.  
"If El Burro ever finds out about this shit we're fuckin' dead homes!"  
"Fuck YOU MAN! You rat on me, and I'll fuckin' kill you right now!"  
He hears a gun cock and a earth shattering flurry of loud spurts.  
"Shit man... That was fucking close!"  
"Yeah goddamn..."  
Neither man has been shot, that means he killed a mobster if they kill too many of them 8-ball's shop is done for. He realizes this and crouches down low and holds his breathe. One of the men steps out to survey the area 8-ball takes advantage. He gets right behind the Diablo, "Hey!"  
The man flinches and jerks around 8-ball gives him the hardest and most painful righthand, 8-ball's hand begins to bleed badly again. His knuckles are turning white, the Diablo swerves around from the blast and blood fly from his mouth and hits 8-ball in the eye. Gunfire ensues, 8-ball has no choice, he ignores it and snatches up the Diablo's M4.  
"Now I'm in BUSINESS, you MOTHERFUCKERS!"  
8-ball cocks the gun and runs out of the Garage firing like a soldier. "Come ON! MOTHERFUCKERS!" bullets tear through brick and concrete, creating dust flakes and debris. He gets three Diablos. The first Diablo is hit in the chest by thirty-seven rounds. 8-ball chases after another man who runs for his life, he swings the M4 back and fourth horizontally shooting a line of holes through the Diablo's back. Debris flys from a wall and sprays across a Diablo holding a forty-four Magnum. He's distracted and 8-ball guns him down like a dog.  
He runs out of bullets two Diablos run toward him with guns. "HOLD IT! Motherfucker stay where you are!"  
"You son of a bitch! I --"  
8-ball ducks as the Diablo's left shoulder explodes like a landmine, his left side torn apart by a shotgun blast. He ducks down and flies into the other Diablo slamming him into a brick wall. His survival instincts take over. He punches the Diablo over and over in the gut, ignoring the pain. The Diablo takes a Desert Eagle and presses it to 8-ball's back. 8- ball stands up straight and strikes the Diablo twice as quick as a boxer. He hits him once in the throat and another time in the forehead above the left eye.  
The man doesn't faint but he falls with his back to the wall, 8-ball grabs his gun and kicks the Diablo in the chest, pressing his whole foot on his ribs, yanking it from his hand. He cocks the gun and aims it at his face.  
"Fuck with my shop you fuckin' asshole!" The wall in front of 8-ball explodes, he turns around quickly and fires frantically at the Diablo. The mobster with the shotgun comes out of nowhere and sticks the gun to the Diablo's head. He takes his sunglasses off and smiles putting them in his pocket. Then he pulls the trigger, and the front of the Diablo's face is torn apart by shotgun pellets. His lifeless body strikes the ground.  
"Fuckin' Diablos! 8-ball right? Tony sent me to protect your shit. Come on we got to go, we'll take the van."  
A Diablo bolts for the van gets in the Driver side. The mobster fires a blast but misses. He runs to the side of the van and stick his shotgun in the open window. 8-ball watches the Mobster get torn apart by lead. The van pulls out quickly, 8-ball reaches in his pocket and pulls out the bag with the gunpowder in it. His adrenaline pumps fast, he gets his lighter and finally sets the bag on fire. The van gets out and into the road.  
8-ball chases after the van blasting fifty caliber holes through the back windshield, then he takes the lit bag and throws it like a baseball into the van. It stops, and 8-ball hears a loud 'POOF' sound, and a flash of light inside.  
The Diablo comes running out burning, 8-ball fires holes into him and he flies backward and slams onto the Liberty street, a burning bloody mess. 8-ball runs over to his dead body and looks for a gun, he doesn't find it until he looks in the van, inside is another Desert Eagle. 'Diablos have a lot more guns then usual.' 8-ball thinks checking the bullets.  
He runs back to his shop as he rounds a corner something strikes him hard in the face, and he drops to the ground. A wild eyed Diablo gets right on 8-ball and points black dual Desert Eagles right at 8-ball's chest, he can feel the pain as the barrels dig into his chest. 8- ball freaks and sticks his silver Eagles into the Diablos chest pulling the hammer back. The Diablo is keeping himself evelated by pressing his guns into 8-ball's chest, the pain is unbearable. He leans in close to 8-balls face, "LET'S SEE WHO SHOOTS FIRST!"  
His eyeball explodes ripping his face to peices, he falls away from 8- ball's view. Over 8-ball stands Fido holding a smoking Magnum in his hands. Fido stands, the only man uninjured, he seemed completely impervious to any kind of situation. He cooly sticks the gun in his pocket, and smirks lightly, his eyebrow raise and lower quickly like 'I'm here'. Probably the happiest any of them had ever seen him.  
8-ball pushes the Diablo's dead body off of him and takes Trent's outstretched hand.  
"You okay 8-ball?" He asks tiredly.  
"No. You?"  
"Fuck no man. I'm like this close to being fuckin' dead."  
8-ball lifts his shoulder and wipes the right side of his face rubbing blood off, it doesn't work that great, he takes his hand and slides it across his face, he glances at his palm and spots a large chunk of brain matter. He falls to his knees and nausiatingly spews vomit.  
"Hey, 8-ball, you alright?"  
"That is the most disgusting fuckin' thing I've ever seen."  
A phone rings, Fido takes it out of his pocket and hands it to Trent.  
"Yeah... Good... Yeah thanks." he shuts the cell phone and looks directly at 8-ball. "We fuckin' did it man, all of your bombshops are fine. That was hard too, in Harwood we had a shootout with the police, I didn't want to shoot any, but Fido got a couple. He disarmed the bomb too, it seems like there ain't shit he can't do."  
8-ball laughs, "I taught him that." the three of them walk away from the carnage as Mafia Sentinals pull up, guards are inside ready to keep 8- ball's shop safe. 8-ball looks over at his Stallion, the trunk is punctured with holes and the lock is shot off. The trunk is wide open.  
"Fuck."  
"What?"  
"I had Max Payne in there..."  
"Shit...I got to go home and get some sleep." Trent says.  
  
8-ball smiles, "I got to get fucking laid!" the three of them laugh soaking in their survival. 


	15. 9: Fido

FIDO:  
  
Trent, 8-ball, and Fido are all sitting at a large table in a dining room in Liberty City's Shoreside Vale. Sitting with them is Tony Cipriani and three well known Liberty mobsters. Fidelio Gerodi and twins Sal and Agostino Nico. Time has past since their last job and they had needed to recover from their injuries, they bought a house in Shoreside Vale to rest up in after every hard Job. They were now all fully recovered.  
Fidelio smiles and lifts his drink up to his face, then he sits it on the table, "Want to hear a funny story? There's this guy I used to know, big friend of mine. Him and two of his other buddies go down to this fuckin' gameshow or somethin'. Now, all of them got injured a week or two earlier. Anyway, so they go on this show and the host decides to play a joke on 'em, so he says, 'I'll give you guys my brand new Infernus if one of you guys can tell me the best story about how you got injured.' So my friend steps up and he's like, 'Okay, well I was comin' home from work early 'cause I wanted to see if my bitch of a wife was cheatin' on me, it's our anniversary. I walk in she's naked, on the couch starin' straight at me. I figure I caught her red handed, but I look everywhere and I can't find SHIT. Just when I was about to give up and apologize, I hear this fuckin' scratchin' on my goddamn windowsill. There he was, I caught him, so I ran and got the frying pan from the kitchen --"  
"This is a long fuckin' story man." Sal cuts in.  
"Hey shut your FUCKIN' mouth so I can finish it you piece of shit... So he says, 'I got the frying pan and I blasted him in the head with it, but my foot gets caught up in the refrigerator and I fall out the window.' The host is like, 'Well that's pretty good, let's see if we can't find one better.' so my friend's friend steps up and he says, 'I was in my house cookin' dinner. I hear all this commotion comin' from outside, so I look out the window, I accidentally loose my footing and fall about two stories. Luckily I was able to catch a windowsill on the way down, then out of nowhere this fuckin' maniac with a frying pan bashes me on the head, I fall in some bushes and survive nearly uninjured, then this huge refrigerator smashes my arm.' Now, they can't hear each other, and the host asks the last guy, 'So how'd you manage to get injured." and he says, "Well I was hiding naked in this refrigerator."  
All seven of them start laughing, even Fido somehow manages to laugh out loud. No one notices, but his voice might actually be coming back. If the doctors were right then he might be able to talk right now, he decides against it.  
Fido gets up from the table full of gangsters.  
"Where the fuck you goin asshole!?" Tony asks him, faking angry.  
Fido holds up some money and points to the door.  
"Be careful man, we haven't been out on the streets in awhile, who knows who's pissed off at us." 8-ball says warning Fido.  
Fido nods and heads for his Banshee outside. He drives to a small Subway inbetween two grocery stores, not a subway like a train station, but Subway the restaurant. He steps inside and immediately lights a cigarette, even though they're not aloud. He steps up to the counter, and just stands staring.  
"You know if you want something you have to tell me what it is... you can't smoke in here you know?"  
Fido blows the smoke in his face, and throws the cigarette on the counter, then he points to one of the orders.  
"Okay..."  
Fido nods, the cashier becomes increasingly awkward.  
"Tomatoes?"  
Fido shakes his head 'no.'  
"Anything else you want me to take off?"  
Fido shakes his head 'no' again then steps off, paying no more attention to him, he picks up his cigarette off the counter and sticks it back in his mouth.  
The door to the Subway opens and barely six feet away from Fido stands Max Payne. They are both more than surprised to see each other. Max's reaction is less quick to recognize Fido, as he had never actually gotten a good look at him. But after a steady amount of time, Max realizes he's seen Fido somewhere before.  
Max and Fido watch each other closely but discretely both hoping that one had not seen the other. Fido hears them call for his sandwich and he step casually up to the counter. As Fido leaves Max steps forward to order. Fido decides it would make it easier on the team if Max were taken out, he's the only one out of the three of their members that has no problem knocking off police officers.  
Fido reaches inside his pockets for two Colt forty-fives he swerves around and aims them at Max's back. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Screaming starts and people run for the doors. Max ducks down, avoiding every shot. Then he turns around, standing up, he fires six bullets at Fido, all of them hit the glass window and door. Fido stands like a statue unfaized by Max's gunplay. Neither man seemed superior.  
Though Fido could not dodge bullets, he had an uncanny ability for avoiding them, 8-ball said it was good luck, Fido himself believed that it was chance, there was no way he could avoid the kind of shots that had been thrown at him all these years, he was not skilled or lucky, it had to be chance.  
Max fires another bullet at Fido but misses, Fido's suicidal style made it hard for Max to get a shot off without coming close to being shot himself.  
Fido walks towards Max, who's hiding behind one of those big couchlike seats. He's sure Max can hear him but he can't see him. Fido starts to fire holes through the seats, he runs out of bullets and all that's left is gunpowder. He throws both guns on the ground over the seat so that Max will no he has no bullets left.  
As expected Max Jump out from behind the seats aiming two guns at Fido. As Max goes around the seats Fido slams his fist into Max's face, caught of gaurd by another one of Fido's suicidal maneuvers Max accidentally drops one of his Barreta's on the floor. Fido continues to beat on him until he drops the other one, he strikes and kicks Max in the abdomen until he's able to wrestle the gun from his hand.  
Fido sticks the gun in Max's face, unexpectedly he smiles.  
"What are you gonna' do with that? Feed it to me?"  
Confused, Fido doesn't have time for riddles. He pulls the trigger, CLICK the slide locks back on the gun 'What the fuck!' , Fido realizes he's been tricked.  
Max scatters across the floor towards the second gun, he grabs it and aims up at Fido and fires. Fido bolts out the side door back onto Liberty City streets.  
That was the closest anyone had ever come to killing Fido. Unlike most people, Fido had never questioned his chosen proffession, now was a time that he probably should have, but again he doesn't.  
He stops after running five blocks, he's sure he's lost him. He as he catches his breath he eyes a black van pull up next to him. After he's rested he stands up wiping sweat off his forehead. The van catches his eye again, he notices a fire design painted on the side of it.  
'Oh shit,' three Diablos jump out of the van and he swings on them like a prize fighter. He knocks one of them to the ground then punches another one in the stomach chest and head before someone gets him in the back. The numbers overwhelm him and they pull open the van and stick him inside.  
It's dimly lit and the decoration looks like something out of a porno film. Out of the darkness in the very back of the van comes a voice, an all too familiar voice.  
"There is some business I must disguss with you. About a job you pulled some time ago, where you destroyed a Diablo business... Do you know who I am?"  
Fido shakes his head, lying. The fat man peers out of the darkness with two lit cigarettes in his mouth.  
  
"I am El Burro!" 


	16. 11: Trent & 8ball

TRENT & 8-BALL:  
  
"What the fuck is takin' Fido so long!?" Trent asks staring at his cards, "He should have been back by now."  
Agostino laughs, pushing his long hair out of his face, "You're actually worried about him?"  
"Hey fuck you man, just 'cause I got people I trust doesn't make me a fag!"  
"Hey, hey, hey... hold it man don't get all homophobic on me, besides that's not what I meant --"  
"Well what did you mean then?"  
"Hey man, I wasn't makin' fun of you. I'm just sayin' have you ever seen that guy in a gun fight, I swear it's like he sold his soul to the devil or somethin', it's fuckin' crazy." The Nico brothers where known for their unusual personalities, unusual in their business anyway. The two of them where uncharacteristically polite, cool under pressure, sly and soft spoken. They were also know for being, crazy, homicidal madmen, with no remorse or even a shred of humanity within them.  
Agostino mentioned the devil, ironically he and his brother seemed to be a living manifestation of what most people believed the devil would be like. They could easily draw you to their side with amazing skill and powerful actions seemingly out of good will. But then when you were finally there, you wished you had never gone.  
Both men wore the usual mobster cultism of black suits with black ties. It would be impossible to tell them apart if it weren't for Agostino's preferance to longer hair, Sal had short spikey hair and wore sunglasses much more often. Agostino had a familiar habit of chewing gum and a rumor had circulated that he'd shot a man and killed his brother for trying to force him to spit it out. Both of them look similar down to the very last detail, but the truth was they were fraternal twins, not identical.  
Fidelio Gerodi was the toughest guy to ever come out of Vice City, his family had moved there, had him, made a name for themselves and headed for Liberty. He'd lived in Liberty since he was ten, now nineteen, he was going to move back to Vice so he could spend half of his life in Vice and the other half in Liberty, he would keep rotating between the two every ten years. Growing up in both troubled cities made Fidelio a true gangster.  
8-ball lays his cards on the table, "Three of a kind." The rest of them throw their cards down.  
"Lucky motherfucker!" Sal says tossing his cards.  
"I know..." 8-ball says smiling, "You know what Trent's right man somethin' isn't right if Fido's not back here yet."  
Trent starts dealing cards, then his phone rings, "Shit!" he takes it out of his pocket and puts the it to his ear, "Yeah......... Shit! No, no, no, I'm just not prepared that's all.... What? Tommorrow, fuck you mean tommorrow? Holy SHIT! How the fuck am I supposed to deal with this!? Huh? Do you have any idea what the fuck I've been doing down here Amorina? You can't send her down here, I'm not even legally out of prison -- Hello, HELLO!"  
Trent angrily throws his cell phone across the room, it bounces off a wall shattering into a million peices, "FUCK!"  
"Who the fuck was that?" Fidelio asks him puffing on a cigarette.  
"That was my ex-girlfriend Amorina... beautiful Mexican chick, almost married her, but it didn't work out for career reasons."  
"So why the fuck you so heated?" Sal asks him.  
"She called me... to tell me... that she's sending my daughter here, so that I can take car of her for a while." Trent puts his head in his hands and sits down on a white couch in the living room. He now has a severely bad headache.  
"I'm sorry man..." 8-ball says, "You know you never told me you had a daughter."  
"Why don't you want to see your daughter?" Agostino asks confused, "Don't you love her?"  
"Of course I do." Trent says loudly from the other room, "The problem is, she doesn't really love me that much. I'm doin' jobs down here, and sending her to this fuckin' place is not a good thing. I'm totally fuckin' shit man! I can't even understand how I'm supposed to take care of her while I'm trying to do this shit."  
"How do you know she doesn't fuckin' love you, you dumbshit? You ever ask her?"  
The plausible nature of Tony's question gets to him, "...No..."  
8-ball comes inches from asking what Trent's daughter's name is when Fido comes busting through the door, soaking wet and out of breathe.  
"Jesus Christ! What happened to you?" Tony asks from the dining room.  
Fido holds up a cassette player and hands it to Trent, who is the closest one to him.  
  
Trent takes the tape player and presses 'play.' 


	17. 10: Max

MAX:  
  
Max Payne runs across the sidewalk, running low with his gun drawn, he had lost Fido. People run and scream, as Max tells them to move. He couldn't believe how crazy this guy Fido was, now he had his own idea about why they call him Fido. He was as stubborn and vicious as any pitbull that Max had ever come across.  
He crashes into a garbage can, it slows him down even more. Finally after two minutes he spots Fido, resting on a corner, Max hides in an alleyway. A van boaring the flames of a Diablo Stallion pulls up next to Fido, as he looks up he freaks out, Max watches the Diablos head out of the van and Fido starts to beat the hell out of them. 'This guy seems untouchable,' Max thinks. A Diablo gets Fido in the back and they take him down. Finally, Max sees more that shows him Fido is still only human.  
Max decides to pick the lock to a Stinger and follow them. Fido is taken into the back of the van but nothing happens, the van doesn't start moving, after a fair amount of time Fido gets out of the van, completely unharmed aside from the previous attack. He's holding a small square metal object.  
Max feels he has no choice, he had to get Fido. He runs out into rain, slamming the door to the stinger. He holds his gun up. "If you move I'll gun you down like a dog, got that 'Fido?'" Max is still a fair distance from the van. A Diablo leans out the passenger side window and points an Uzi at Max. His senses slam into gear and he aims at the Diablo's head, pumping three bullets out of the barrel, the Diablo drops the Uzi a smoking carcass. Max picks it up off the ground and runs for Fido, who has ran a fair distance.  
Max, gains on him and fires the Uzi, it startles Fido and Max gets close enough to grab him. He pulls at Fido's shoulder turning him around, Fido strikes him in the face hard. Max is caught of guard but more prepared then last time, he returns the favor, slamming the Uzi against the side of Fido head.  
"Damn, you're a tough bastard." Max leans down to pick up the metal object in Fido's hand. Fido doesn't let go. Fido starts to get up, Max kicks him repeatedly, then he leans down and finally gets the metal object.  
Max holds the cassette player in his hands, he leans down, "What's on the tape? What's a matter Fido, cat got your tounge?"  
Max realizes that Fido has no idea how to react. "You don't talk?"  
Fido shakes his head 'no.'  
"God." Max turns around to look at the Diablo van. Two Diablos start running after him, "Shit!" He aims his gun, they fire on him, and he fires back, getting unbelievably good shots off, none of them survive.  
Max looks at their dead bodies, he can't believe that this is what he has been sent here to do. The more days went by after his wifes death the more he realized that death was not the end for everyone. Even the people he killed could have had futures and probably did have families. It seemed like his life got worse by the day.  
Max feels a hard blunt pain crash into his back, he falls to the ground face first, the familiar smell of wet cement fills his nostrils. As he feels more hard strikes to the back he turns around, the rain gets in his eyes but Max can tell that the blurry figure is Fido. He manages to get a hold of Max's Barretta.  
'How the hell did he do that.' Max shifts all of his weight screaming, he pushes Fido's chest knocking him on his back, the back of Fido's head crashes into the concrete, and the gun bounces out of his hand sliding away. Fido holds his head, and Max runs for the gun. When he gets a hold of it he runs away.  
Max finds refuge in the Stinger, he drives it a small distance then parks the car and turns the tape player on.  
"I am El Burro!... Some time ago you did a job for Tony Cipriani. My sources are never wrong, and they have told me that this particular job was against a Diablo wrestling ring. I'd like to thank you for getting rid of those cocksuckers! They were doing that business behind my back, and I was not getting any money... I would like to get on good terms with Tony and I think that you and your team could be a superb asset to the Diablo community. I know you can't talk so I want you to take this tape to Tony and your team, but if the cops get a hold of it the police won't be the only ones to pay. Understood? Good, I hope to do more business."  
Max clicks off the tape.  
His head begins to swim and, feels like it's splitting in two. Then his head burns and feels cold at the same time, like red hot pokers, and icles. 'What the fuck is going on.' he squirms around from the pain and keeps slamming into different parts of the car.  
He'd forgotten to take his painkillers after shooting the Diablo, it was too late now, he'd have to endure. He thrashes around, and his head slams into the glass, a single crack comes across the window. Max's pain becomes worse traveling through his body like it runs through his bloodstream. The pain is unbearable, he feels his whole body tear apart from the inside out. His muscles tighten and the convulsions start, then like a lightbulb burning out, he feels that last surge of the worst pain ever, and then the world around him becomes blank.  
  
Before completely fading he hears the door open, and the welcome peaceful feel of cold water on his face, someone leans in and grabs the tape player, and Max slips away from reality. 


	18. 12: Trent 8ball & Fido

TRENT 8-BALL & FIDO:  
  
8-ball's eyes burn lightly, he rubs the sleep out of them. He puts his feet on the cold floor, gets dressed and heads downstairs.  
Everyone else is downstairs again playing poker, except for Trent and Sal who are having breakfast.  
"8-ball you sleep more than my fuckin' mom does man! Goddamn you must be tired."  
"Hey, good luck. You know?"  
"Don't forget we got to go work some shit out with El Burro today, then we got to pull the Triad heist."  
"The heist is today?"  
"Yeah, you didn't know that! Holy shit man, did you forget why we were living in this fuckin' house?" Sal says, surprised that 8-ball had forgotten one of their biggest jobs to date.  
The last job they had all done Fido and some other Mobsters, including Sal, Agostino, and Fidelio had to waste a group of about twenty- five Triads in the back of a Fish Van. Apperently they had robbed the Diablo's on the same day that the Triads were planning to, this caused them to chase Fido all the way to Harwood from Portland Harbor, Tony did not take the story very well. This - again, put Tony in a bad place with the Triads.  
Their next job called for them to go on a mass assassination of Triad soldiers, the job was completely Tony's idea and it payed good money so they all played along.  
The doorbell rings and half of the men in the room jump, 8-ball isn't effected, he heads straight for the door. "I'll get it." he opens the door, a girl with an umbrella stands in the doorway, a Limo off in the distance drives away.  
"Hi is my dad here?"  
"Huh? Oh, yeah! TRENT!"  
Trent comes running into the doorway. "Hey, Sam. I'm sure your mom already told you what I do. I understand if it bothers you, but if your going to stay here you might be spending more time with these guys than me. This is 8-ball," he leads her into the dining room, "Fido, Fidelio, Tony, Sal, and Agostino.  
"This is my daughter Samantha, she's fourteen going on fifteen."  
"8-ball and Fido, are those you guy's street names, mom told me your an escaped convict."  
They're all caught off guard by her spontaneous attitude except for Agostino, and Sal.  
"Samantha you talk like that to your dad?"  
"Yeah why not."  
"'Cause he's your father and you should show some respect."  
"To a criminal?"  
"I don't know if you noticed but we're all people here, criminals are people too, no matter what your opinion is." Agostino has a note of anger in his voice.  
She seems more responsive to Agostino than Sal, "...Sorry..."  
"We got to go do this now!" Tony says out of the blue.  
A very quick dialogue is brought together by several people as they load up guns and get ready, the scene is frantic as seven people prepare in the same house.  
"Shit! --" Trent is cut off by Tony.  
"You're not stayin'!"  
"I know... Sam, I have to go, I'm sorry. Hey somebody's got to stay here and take care of her, who's it going to be?"  
"I'll be fine --"  
Trent laughs, "Not in this City."  
"Dad,"  
"Yeah?"  
"Where are you guys going?"  
"Maybe I'll tell you when I get back."  
"TRENT!" 8-ball throws him a clip.  
Trent loads the clip into his gun and pulls the slide back and shoves the Colt forty-five in his belt. "Who's staying here? Fido? 8-ball?"  
Tony is like a coach he knows there is certain people he can't bench, "None of the three of ya' can stay here and that's final!"  
"I'll stay," Agostino says smiling at Samantha, "It'll be fun."  
Trent's surprised he barely knows him.  
"Yeah, I'll stay too then, I think we can take good care of her." Sal says agreeing with his brother.  
Fidelio tosses them both guns, "Make sure nothin' happens 'cause if it does, Trent's not the only guy that'll kill you."  
Fido grabs a shotgun and a bag full of guns and ammunition swinging it over his shoulder. Tony can't stay he has to get back to Mama's Restaurant he needs an alabi. His phone rings and he answers it quickly. All of them are wearing the usual Mafia attire except for 8-ball and Fido, Trent's suit is paired with his long overcoat. He gives a little salute to his daughter as he puts his hand on the doorknob.  
"SHIT! DUCK! DUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!"  
Tony hits the floor, Trent is not so reactive, his hand still on the doorknob the wood on the left side of his face explodes causing shreds of wood to fly past his face. He ducks, and is uninjured with the exception of three splinter that are stuck in his face, he's not bleeding but they hurt like hell.  
"Goddamn IT!"  
They all hide in different places of the house, Sal is behind a white leather couch. "That fucker El Burro betrayed us! I'm gonna' kill that fat bastard!"  
"It wasn't him, he just called me. These are rogue Diablos, their pissed because El Burro wants to start a business with the people who killed their friends, El Burro's more business then they are, this is personal."  
Agostino has his hands over Samantha's ears protecting her. Trent looks at Tony, "What do you want us to do?"  
"What the fuck do you think?" Tony says as if that's the stupidest fucking question he's ever heard.  
Agostino, stands up grabbing his Uzi off the dining room table, "I'll tell you what I'm going to do!" he cocks the gun.  
"NO!" Sam is frantic she has no one to protect her, "You have to stay here! You can't leave me here!" He picks her up and puts her in a closet, "Stay down low and close this door!" he takes a couch from the living room and shoves it in front of the closet along with the table, which he flips over.  
"There hasn't been any shooting for awhile," Fidelio says listening. "maybe they're waiting for us to come out."  
Trent takes Fido's shotgun which he willingly hands over.  
"Fuck this!" Sal says heading for the door, him and his brother go to each side of the double doors.  
Agostino and Sal kick the doors down at the same time. Sal covers the right side, while Agostino covers the left side and Trent runs ahead to cover the middle ground. It looks like classic SWAT formation, and Trent immediately blasts a hole through the chest of an unsespecting Diablo. He can hear Sal and Agostino blasting behind him. This was becoming a war and this house was the frontline.  
8-ball picks up his Barretta, he'd never been too good with guns, that was one of the reasons he was a bomb expert. He taps Fido on the shoulder and they both rise from the crouching position heading for the back door. Fido holds two Desert Eagles, the kickback of a Desert Eagle is amazingly strong and it's almost impossible to fire two of them, Fido holds the guns with his wrists locked and the back of his hands touching. He had no idea if it would work but he would try.  
Water explodes ahead of Fido as his foot clears the way, the door knocked out of view. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! His Eagles tear open a Diablo, his flesh torn away by fifty caliber rounds. 8-ball watches Fido off Diablo's like he's picking grapes at a winery. Each one falls to the ground spilling red blood over green grass.  
8-ball runs around to the pool, a Diablo had jumped over the hedge and into it. As 8-ball runs toward him he pulls the trigger, the bullet flys from the chamber and the back of the Diablo's head is torn away a shot right in the middle of the forehead. He's amazed, how could he have been so lucky, but of course to 8-ball nearly everything was about his luck, today - he just figured, was his lucky day.  
He hears more footsteps from behind, he swerves around knocking droplets of rain across his clothes, he ducks down low, and starts shooting. His bullets rip through a wooden picket fence blasting six holes into a Diablo's upper body three of them hitting the man in the throat.  
8-ball jumps when a loud bang come from the his side - - Fido watches 8-ball pump bullets into a Diablo through a picket fence, another Diablo stands a foot behind 8-ball pointing a gun behind his ear, Fido fires and hits the Diablo exactly in the same place he was pointing at 8-ball, his head snaps sideways violently and blood swipes across the back of 8-ball's sports coat.  
8-ball had no idea what was going on, and it startles him, he turns around to find a corpse that wasn't there before. 8-ball smiles, "Ahhh! HAHA! YEAH! You're the man Dog, your the man." he puts his hand on Fido's back still holding his gun. Two Diablo's come around the corner of the house, Fido and 8-ball blast the hell out of them, they fly backwards their legs flying up in the air.  
Trent, Agostino, and Sal all hide behind Fido's Banshee as the bullets keep coming. Then out of nowhere the gunfire just stops.  
They reluctently stand up, then they see what had happened, there, standing in nearly all different postions of the front of the house is everyone else. 8-ball, Fido, and Fidelio are all holding guns that have been used, the bodies of dead Diablos fertalize the lawn of Tony's house in the suberbs. There are also a few Diablo's that have come to help them, wearing blue bandannas instead of the enemy Diablos, who wear red.  
Tony takes his forty-five and walks off the porch of the house he begins to punch bullets into a dying Diablo, he puts him out of his misery, then he looks up. "Did anyone kill a Diablo wearing a blue bandanna?" they all shake their heads. "Well that's a relief... but it took you guys too FUCKIN' long! Look they're already dead!"  
Fido walks up to his Banshee with a disappointed look on his face, he's looking at Trent.  
"What?"  
Fido examines the bullet holes, shaking his head.  
"We'll go down to the Pay N' Spray we have to do the Triad Mission anyway." Trent says handing Fido a huge wad of cash as Agostino and Sal head back into the house. The rest of them head for Portland.  
  
The emotion after the gunfight is muddled and confusing, most of them are just happy to be alive, no one was hurt and this made the next job that much simpler, Fido liked to think of it as a 'warm up gunfight.' 


	19. 13: The Crew

SAM AGOSTINO & SAL:  
  
Samantha, sits on the couch watching T.V. the commercials are on, so instead of watching them she listens to music. She's calmed down but she still kind of has the shudders. Agostino had generously supplied her with lots of junk food, and Sal had given her tons of batteries for her CD player.  
Agostino jumps onto a couch and lays down, putting his hands behind his head. The ads are over and Sam watches the Simpsons crunching on Cheetos.  
Agostino lights up a cigarette and puts it in his mouth, this catches Sam's attention. Agostino smiles, "Want a cigarette?"  
"Sure." she says moving closer over to his couch.  
"Give me one good reason why I should give a cigarette to a fourteen- year-old and I'll give it to ya'."  
"How about 'cause you already offered it to me?"  
"Well damn, that is a good reason... isn't it Sal?"  
"What?!" Sal says confused, he's half asleep.  
"...Well... I don't think I'm going to give it to you anyway."  
"Why not?"  
"Because I love you, and I don't want to see anything bad happen to you."  
"You don't love me, you don't even know me."  
"I know your father," he says puffing on the cigarette, "and I like him, so that makes us brothers. If he's my brother than you're my niece, I don't want anything bad to happen to my niece." he says all of this like it's the most obvious thing in the world.  
He chews gum while smoking his cigarette.  
"Why don't you take the gum out of your mouth when you smoke?"  
"It's nicotine gum," he says smiling, "it's supposed to help me quit."  
  
TRENT 8-BALL FIDO & FIDELIO:  
  
Triad Massassination Part I:  
  
8-ball, Trent, are in the front of a Triad Fish van, Fidelio is in the back with all the guns and ammunition, and Fido is close behind driving his freshly painted Banshee. They had done the bodyshop work on his car unrealistically fast, and he wondered if it wasn't a completely different car alltogether.  
8-ball laughs to himself a little, "That's not your little girl is it?"  
"What, w...What the fuck do you mean by that?"  
"Motherfucka' the last time you told me what your age was you said TWENTY-FOUR, if you're twenty-four that can't be your daughter. Besides she don't look half Mexican to me."  
"You got to learn to read between the lines 8-ball my friend," he says turning the wheel "I never actually told you I was twenty-four, that's what I wrote down when they handed out all those contracts for Liberty City survivor, you just assumed because I wrote that that it was actually my age. I fabricated it a little so I could get on the show."  
  
"Why the fuck would you do that?"  
Trent takes his hands off the wheel momentarily and starts waving them around, "We're here aren't WE!?"  
"Well, you look twenty-four... What's your real age?"  
"Twenty-seven-"  
"Holy shit! That's not a big difference you know?"  
"She was born when I was almost fourteen, that was probably the biggest mistake of my life..." he ads "aside from this shit..." reffering to 'the life' he's chosen. "I figured they'd put me on the show if I was younger, which reminds me how did they pick you."  
"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? I have BOMB EXPERT written all over my police files, who the hell else were they gonna' pick."  
"Okay, this is the place." Trent says pointing to the familiar Triad Fish company, they were now in Portland. They have to do a review before starting the mission, They gather up on the side of the Fish van.  
"Okay, Me and Fido are going to go in shooting. 8-ball, you plant bombs, I know you're not too good with guns so you've got Uzis and two nine millemeter Barrettas, they're altered to fire like submachineguns so you should have no problem blowing back Triad skulls. Fidelio your job is to survey the area for Diablo's wearing red bandannas, El Burro said that specifically rogue Diablo's have RED bandannas, if you see one wearing blue you call him over to help. Any questions?"  
Fidelio raises his hand.  
"Yeah."  
"Yeah, how come my job sucks!?"  
"Anything else?"  
"Got any food? I didn't get any fuckin' breakfast?"  
"No."  
8-ball takes a candy bar out of his pocket and throws it to Fidelio, "Must be your lucky day."  
"Mmm. Snickers, my favorite." They liked to screw around before missions to relieve tension, it worked, but not too well.  
Fidelio was the guy who was fully strapped, he had more guns than a U.S. Marine. Supposedly there was a huge supply of cash stashed inside the Triad's hidout somewhere, Tony happily supplied them with Mobsters in black vans who would show up after the Triads where mostly taken care of. It was like a demented easter egg hunt, the person who finds the cash gets half of what's left after the other's amounts are tabulated.  
Trent and 8-ball get back into the Fish van, they drive up to the gigantic metal fence, a Triad leans in, it quickly becomes obvious to them that driving up in the Fish van might not have been that good of an idea. Trent knows this he's dressed in a Mob suit and a long overcoat, just to look cool he matches it with a white scarf, his homage to old school gangsters and movies like The Godfather.  
He sticks his gun up against the side of the door and blasts holes through it shredding metal and Triad flesh. He kicks it open and runs for the gate it shuts quickly and his hand almost gets caught in it.  
"SHIT!" He runs to the passanger side of the truck, "8-ball?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Plan B, you got to blow open the fence."  
"No problem." 8-ball jumps out of the truck, and moves to the back to get his equipment. Trent fires through the fence, when the first shots went off all hell broke loose. 8-ball gets all of his stuff and comes around to the front of the truck. "You want to move it?" He says referring to the truck.  
"Fuck it, just blow it up!"  
"I need more cover."  
"FIDO!"  
Fido is responsive, he runs for the gate. He curves his hand around the corner and pulls the trigger to his shotgun. "AAAHHH!" He knows he's gotten somebody but he doesn't know who.  
He keeps blasting shotgun shells through the fence, obliterating the Chinese Triads.  
8-ball looks up, "RUN!"  
They all bolt as far away as possible. - - Fidelio, runs towards the front of the fence, then he notices a bomb planted near the front of the fence, "WHAT THE FUCK!" He storms through grass and foliage towards the dock waters. He jumps in, it keeps him from getting hurt but he didn't have to do it anyway, he would have been far enough away without jumping into the waters.  
'BOOOOOOOOM!' The explosion rocks the ground tearing a huge gap in the black gate. 8-ball Trent and Fido quickly move in. A very large number of Triads had died in the explosion. There aren't many left at all. One Triad shoots out from a corner. Fido aims his shotgun and fires, debris sprays off the concrete walls and drifts to the ground slowly, like a cloud. The Triad falls from his corner into view a massive gaping hole in his stomach.  
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! A new firing comes from somewhere behind them, when they turn around and fire each one of them has gotten a single man. Trent walks over to the bodies, he kneels down and picks up a gun. A massive truck roars past 8-ball and Fido almost getting them both killed. They angrily fire rounds at the truck. It gets close to Trent, he fires a hole into the tire and it crashes head on into a wall, the Triad inside smashes through the windshield his body folding like an acordian when he hits the wall, and his head cracking open like an egg when he hits the wall.  
8-ball cringes, even after that crazy chainsaw shit he still couldn't believe how disgusting stuff like that was.  
  
"Lets go find this money." 


	20. 14: Trent 8ball Fido & Fidelio

TRENT 8-BALL FIDO & FIDELIO:  
  
Triad Massasination Part II:  
  
Fidelio, wet and miserable pulls himself up out of the water. He hauls himself up onto the hard ground and crawls into the grass. He turns over on his back and lays in the soft green field, soaking wet and frustrated. He takes a deep breathe, with his gun still in his hand he slowly turns to his left, opening his eyes. What he sees shakes him to the bone.  
Diabos wearing both red and blue bandannas run towards the Triad's hideout, they spot one another and there is brief dialogue. Then the mood grows more angry and the civil war ensues, Diablos destroying other Diablos, breaking each other like ceramic sculptures. Triads quickly pull up in red and blue vans, red and blue like the Diablos, but noticablly still united. The duel turns into a triple threat.  
Fidelio had been involved in gang wars before, but not like this. This was the kind of thing that you only saw when watching old war footage, or the stories that were told by returning war soldiers. He couldn't believe the hell that had been brought together. A Fish van, comes careening through the field slamming into four Diablos, three of them are the allies of his crew the blue bandannas. The Diablo with the red bandanna hits the ground screaming in pain. A Triad steps up and puts four bullets in his head, a Diablo with a blue bandanna blows him to bits. The Diablo swerves around and punctures holes through the Fish van that had hit the others earlier, the van tears through the grass and dirt.  
Fidelio can see that the van's front windshield is blood spattered and the car tears towards him at an amazing speed. A Triad is trapped inside seemingly unable to stop the car from moving, the drivers body somehow keeping him from doing so.  
Fidelio jumps too late, but he makes it out alive. The speeding van slams into his foot as he jumps the impact is so hard that he's rotated in mid-air and when he lands his head is where his foot would have been.  
He watches the van crash into the water with force, and sink to the bottom with grace. He limps towards the water's edge. His foot doesn't hurt too much, he knows now it's not broken. As the Triads head emerges from the vans open window, Fidelio aims his gun.  
The Triad looks at him raising his hands, "NO!"  
Fidelio pulls on the trigger, he can feel the pressure, feel the guns implication of oncoming recoil. He releases his finger from the trigger, the Triad breathes a sigh of relief, his life has been spared. Fidelio turns around, to get back to the others in his crew. An out of focus picture of a gun is brought into view. It comes clear extremely quickly, droplets of rain splattering off the sight of the gun.  
Fidelio's reaction is instantaneous, he jams his gun up the Triad's ribs and pulls the trigger four times then he turns dropping the man into the water with the other Triad.  
The Triple threat gang war continues, but now they are joined by a newer and potentially more terrifying onslaught of armed and dangerous fighters. Libery City's finest.  
Fidelio decides that 'this mission is fucked!' He runs back through the fence towards the other members of his group. He shoots a Triad in the back six times as he step over the sharp peices of broken fence. Reloading his gun, he looks around, at smoking debris, and dead bodies. To his left is a crashed Fish van with the torn corpse of the former driver lying on its hood, the wall above his head leaking blood.  
"Hey, TRENT! TRENT!"  
Trent appears from around a corner. "Yeah!"  
"You, or 8-ball, or Fido, you guys find that money yet?!"  
"No we can't find it, it's fuckin' crazy it's like they didn't even hide it here. I think this might be a set up. I don't mean Tony set us up, I'm just sayin'... man. This is fucked up!"  
"We gotta get the fuck out of here man! The cops are comin'!"  
"I KNOW that."  
"No," he says frantically, "Not like they're comin' like from the station, like; they're here, and they're comin' NOW!"  
"Fuck that shit! 8-ball says, "I'm not goin' back to prison man. I'm gettin't he hell out of here - fuck that money!" He grabs his bag and heads for the hole in the fence determined to leave with both his life and his freedom.  
Fido follows close behind him, and Trent is a distant third. He himself, regrets not looking any harder for the money, but 8-ball was right, his life is more important. All four men bolt towards the fence firing their guns at the rival gangs. 8-ball can see innocent pedestrians spread across the concrete, victims of unconscious violence in a city with no forgiveness. 8-ball and Fido get through the gate.  
They all turn and scramble the other way, dozens of cops flow towards them like a raging waterfall. They felt like they were trying to run from a beam of light. Really they were running from bullets and speeding cars. A S.W.A.T. van crashes through the remaining bits of the fence dragging along the ground, a spark flies up and hits Fidelio in the eye. He runs the other direction his eye burning, he is followed by Fido who is concerned about leaving Fidelio for the cops. He helps him keep his balance as they run towards the concrete wall-barrier ahead.  
Trent decides on a very particular plan of action, he cracks the butt of his gun into the back of a S.W.A.T. memeber's skull swinging up getting his head just below the helmet. After he falls to the ground Trent crushes the barrel up against the back of his head and lifts him to his feet. 8- ball provides him with necessary cover.  
He leads the cop very quickly towards the S.W.A.T. van. The three of them enter, the S.W.A.T. guy in the middle. Trent closes the door and 8- ball steps on the gas.  
8-ball turns to Trent, "Roll up the fucking windows!"  
Trent begins to roll up the windows, 8-ball's side is already up. A loud crack explodes next to 8-ball's left ear, and he goes deaf on that side.  
"FUCK!...... What the HELL was THAT!"  
No answer, he looks to his right, next to him screaming bloody murder, is the S.W.A.T. guy, his voice slightly muffled by his uniform. A large gaping hole is carved into his thigh, blood gushing from his wound pushed out by a steaming bullet fragmenting his leg. The cop squeezes on it and blood pours out dripping across the seats and staining 8-ball's blue jeans.  
"JeSUS ChrIST!" Trent says turning towards the S.W.A.T. man, he pulls his mask off of his head. The cop seems simultaneously relieved and terrified, the pain in his leg is more obvious to him now, and is in full view. Now he can see very clearly the blood flowing like icecream in an oven.  
He screams loudly horrified, 8-ball can't focus, and Trent can't figure out what's going on. "Shut the fuck UP!" Agitated he leans over and slams the gun into the man's head, knocking him unconscious. "Pull over!"  
"Pull over? What the fuck dy'a mean pull over, you see how many fuckin' cops are out here?!"  
Trent leans over and looks through the window. "No."  
"Exactly, if I pull over the cops'll find us in no time man, I can't afford to do somethin' that stupid!"  
"Just do it! And be fuckin' quick about it."  
8-ball slams on the breaks and the two of them run frantically to the back of the van, they pull open the doors and throw the S.W.A.T. guy inside, shutting the doors they head back to the front of the van and drive towards Tony's. -  
- Behind them them Fido and Fidelio can hear Trent and 8-ball make their escape. The two of them can't turn back, they had to run forward. Fidelio leaps up grabbing the top of the wall, he manages to pull himself all the way up the concrete barrier. Fido spots a ladder and jumps onto it, a hand grabs him by the back of his leather jacket and yanks on him, he falls back and feels his head fuse with concrete. Guns point at his face, a flurry of voices fills the air muted to Fido by the calming sounds of falling rain.  
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" Fidelio screams, sitting on the top of the concrete barrier. Fido had been caught, as if that wasn't bad enough it looked like he was next. He aims his gun and starts blasting holes through police and through their armor, to his dismay he fails to get a single fatal shot before loosing his balance and falling. He falls backward, his fall is broken by a soft plastic feel, he slides across it, and is suspended for a second, this time the impact is much more noticeable, he hits the ground hard.  
He looks to his right, the thing he had slid off of was the black top to a yellow dumpster. It seemed a little out of place, and unusually it looked brand new. He gets to his feet, and looks around straightening his tie, he takes both hands and lifts up the plastic top of the metal dumpster. When he sees the contents he throws it open the rest of the way. Inside the dumpster is filled with tons and tons of money, one next to it is also filled with money, and one next to that. He smiles balling up one of his fist, the gun in his other hand, that reaction of pure victory comes, as he feels like he's one the lottery.  
'I'm fucking rich!' he thinks to himself smiling. Then he closes all three of the dumpsters to hide the contents, and surprisingly makes a clean getaway. He takes his cellphone out of his pocket, it's water resistant, but he checks it just in case.  
As he begins to talk to Tony on the phone only one thing comes to mind...  
"Hello Tony?"  
  
... 8-ball was right, it must be his lucky day. 


	21. 15: Fido

FIDO:  
  
Fido is lead in chains to an interrogation room with unbelievably bright florecent lights. Fido couldn't help but soak up how humorus this was going to be.  
"What the fuck you smilin' at!?" a big cop with his head shaved screams at Fido, "What's your name bitch!?" The LCPD try to act proffessional sometimes, but not often. They had no file on Fido anymore, he was a John-Doe, Columbians a few years ago had messed with his and 8- ball's police files. They had re-dug up 8-ball's file, his business and popularity were to much to be kept a secret, but 8-ball was a ghost, dead, for three years after the bombing.  
Fido on the other hand, he was alltogether a protected phantom from the Liberty police - that is, until now.  
"Where are your buddies?"  
Fido holds up both hands infront of his face, staring at them, his fists balled up, then, slowly, he raises his right middle finger. Then he smiled making the "PSSHH" sound that people make when they're angry and annoyed. He's slouched in his chair, his right leg moving from right to left, and his hands on the table.  
The cops could tell Fido thought he was tough, what they couldn't tell - not yet anyway, is that he never thought, he always knew.  
The skinhead cop grabs Fido by the collar and slams him against the wall. "You listen good motherfucker, you must think you're a real fuckin' wise-ass. But I can tell that your skinny bitch ass'll get fucked in - every cell - every day for the nex --"  
The cops stupid comment set Fido off, Fido was nobody's bitch and nobody had ever been Fido's, these were the kinds of animalistic behaviors that made Fido hate people. And his hatred for most people in the world was truly genuine. Though Fido always seemed to do whatever he was told, he was actually one of the smartest people in Liberty, it's just hard to convey when you can't talk for years.  
Fido pushes the big cop off of him with the force of an African elephant and swings his arms in rage, the hand cuffs smack hard against the side of the cops face, knocking him to the floor. When he lands Fido doesn't give him any time at all he starts kicking him. Two more cops run in and Fido knows he won't have much time left, he kicks the cop one last time in the crotch before they drag Fido off of him. The skinhead cop is bleeding, gut by the handcuffs because Fido had hit him so hard. He leaves the room.  
The two cops sit him down in a chair, after his shoulders settle they let go of him. Another cop takes over, smaller but a little stronger than the last guy.  
"I was down at the docks when this happened, I heard one of your boys screaming for a guy named Trent. Sounded pretty important, so I think you're him."  
Fido can't help it, he laughs so hard he feels like he's about to piss in his pants. Though Trent might be as cool and tough as Fido, Fido couldn't help but think the idea that he actually 'was' Trent was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Other than the above mentioned characteristics, Fido couldn't imagine anything else he could possibly have in common with Trent.  
"Why the fuck are you laughing? You find something funny? TALK!?"  
Fido points to himself and shows him all five fingers. 'The fifth ammendment.' The cop doesn't get what he means so he puts his hands down and sits quietly.  
Time passes, and the cop grows angrier and angrier as Fido doesn't say a word, ignoring his every sentence, he balls up his fist and punches Fido square in the face. Then he punches him again, harder. Fido has no reaction, and the cop is astonished.  
Fido was trying to show the cop that though he had control over his actions; he was going to ignore them for what he was going to do next. He smiles and starts to laugh, he really looks like he's seen something funny, it doesn't seem like a set up laughter. Then he lunges out of his chair, he throws him agains the wall and squeezes the cops neck, Fido watches the blood rush to the bastards face. The officer kicks at Fido's leg chains trying to knock him down it doesn't work. He knees Fido in the crotch. Fido leans forward in pain, and the cop drives a right hand into his face. Fido stumbles, and regains his balance by grabbing onto the edge of a table, the cop lifts Fido up and is about to hit him again.  
"That's enough, let him go."  
  
Fido immediately recognizes the voice, of Max Payne. 


	22. 17: Max

MAX:  
  
Max smiles, limping into the interrogation room. Fido looks at Max as if he's seen a ghost. He limps because his nerves are shot, he can't feel a damn thing except the swirling nausia deeply imbedded within his head. He sets his gun down on the table, leaning forward, he blinks hard a few times trying to shake the light-headed feel, it doesn't work.  
"Two more beatings in here and I might have to put in some ring ropes and a referee."  
The cop turns to Max pauses for a second then says, "...Who the fuck are you?"  
"Max Payne, NYPD." he shows his badge.  
"You look like a fuckin' nobody to me!"  
"Shhh, don't tell anyone."  
The cop grabs Fido by the shirt, Fido gives a sinister smile like he's going to kill somebody. Max sees it and stops the cop. He walks over and tries to get him to let go. The cop doesn't do it, so they have a very sloppy fight that lasts for about fifteen seconds. Max gains the upper hand and the cop lands very uncomfortably back-first onto one of the chairs, which falls over knocking him to the floor.  
"I'm gonna' kill you motherfucka', first I'm going to have a talk with your boss in New York. Then when he gives me the thumbs up, I'm gonna' fuckin' KILL you!" he sounds serious. The cop slams the door behind him angrily.  
Max leans forward and asks Fido if he wants a cigarette, Fido holds up his hand declining the offer. "I'll have to apologize for fuckers like that," he says lighting one up, "they think their shit doesn't stink anymore 'cuz they got a badge. Anyway, this isn't the street anymore, so I don't want to bash your head in, you're in here and we got rules to follow. All I want to know is where your friends are."  
Fido 'zips his lip'.  
"I know, you can't talk, right. But... You do know where they are, and you can write. You can write, right?"  
It wasn't Max's idea to try to get Fido to talk, it was his bosses idea. Max thought the idea that Fido would roll over on his friends was insane. This man was nearly invincible to law and order.  
Max reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a newspaper, tossing it onto the table. "I know who you are, at least more than some people. They don't mention your name in this article, but I may never know that. I read another article in a separate paper that said with anough therapy you could speak. So Fido, I want you to speak."  
Fido stares at the article entitled 'Ten years for love.' Max can detect a note of sadness, but most of it is anger. Fido hated his girlfriend, and it made him hate people even more. Max actually felt empathetic for Fido. But one thing Max knew was that digging into someone's past, no matter how good your intentions are, will always blow up in your face.  
Max knew it, Fido explodes. He tosses the paper at Max and kicks his chair half-way across the room. Max knew that if he could; Fido would toss the desk through the Police's 'looking glass' mirror, but it's made of heavy oak, and the chains are two restraining for anything of that magnitude.  
Max decides not to fuck with Fido's head, he gets up and walks out of the room. Fido grabs the chair by a kind of pole that hooks the legs of the chair together, he sets it down and sits in it, staring at the mirror in front of him.  
  
Max could tell that Fido had a tortured past, and it made him the toughest son of a bitch alive, he also knew that if this guy had friends, they'd be coming for him. 


	23. 16: Sam Agostino & Sal

SAM AGOSTINO & SAL:  
  
Agostino and Sal Nico sit on the white leather couch watching Underworld, the vampire versus werewolves action adventure. Sal grits his teeth, his sunglasses never seem to come off, even while he's watching T.V.  
"Man, why the fuck are we watching this crap!?"  
Agostino points his thumb at Samantha, "'Cuz she wants to watch it... ...You know, Trent'd be pissed if he knew you said the 'f' word in front of his little girl."  
"What? Fuck?"  
"Yeah fuck. Now quit fuckin' sayin it."  
"Hey! Fuck, that ain't fair you just fuckin' said it!"  
"Fuck it, okay, fuck that."  
"Fuck what? 'Fuck?'"  
"Yes --"  
"Fuck - 'Fuck.'" they both say at the same time.  
Samantha throws her head back laughing, she knows they were playing around, "Will you guys stop messing around? I'm trying to watch the movie here."  
"Ahhh. Lets turn it off, this movie is crap anyway." Sal say reaching for the remote, Agostino stops him.  
"Just look at the pretty lady in the tight leather outfit okay?" Agostino says trying to keep Sal from changing the channel.  
"The hell with this I need a drink." Sal gets up and moves towards the bar.  
Tony is there now and he walks into the living room putting his cellphone away, he enters at the same time as Sal who is swigging on Vodka.  
Tony looks worried. "He's found the money. But there is still some bad news. He's lost track of Trenton and 8-ball, and Fido was caught by the Cops."  
Sal spits Vodka, spraying it across the floor. "What the HELL!"  
"It ain't no bullshit neither. He said that Trent and 8-ball got into a S.W.A.T. van. So I would imagine they'll drive it back here. I've got to get my boys to bring the money - so they'll becomin' here. A lot of commotion, screaming, gangsters, guns, possible gunplay. Bottom line, take the girl somewhere else, her life's not in my hands."  
"Like where?" Agostino says confused.  
"I don't know...... Misty's maybe?"  
"Misty, she can't hang with a bunch of Prostitutes, that's disgusting."  
"Yeah hangin' out with us is bad enough." Agostino adds.  
"So figure somethin' OUT goddamn IT!" Tony says leaving the room.  
Agostino turns to Samantha, "Want some ice cream Sweetheart?"  
  
Samantha sits in a Whoopee's Ice Cream Parlor, a complete and total rip-off of Baskin-Robbins down to almost the last detail. Sam notices but doesn't point it out. She eats her favorite kind of ice cream, Buttercrunch, Sal and Agostino both have Vanilla.  
"I heard you guys talking about me going to a place with a bunch of prostitutes."  
"I know, Tony's crazy. Don't worry you won't have to go there."  
"Why not? You said criminals are people too, so prostitutes are people too. I wouldn't mind. Don't judge people remember. Besides I can't stay here all day."  
"I wasn't judging anyone, don't get me wrong okay. Some of my closest friends are hookers, but it's a sick place, trust me you don't want to go there." Agostino is very serious  
"I might have too though huh?" after hearing Agostino's argument Sam sounds worried.  
Agostino nods his head. Then finishes his ice cream cone and wipes his hands off. "Yeah." he says, a late accompany to the nod, "...Well lets get the hell... out of here."  
As they walk out of the door, Sam turns to both Sal and Agostino alternately, then she looks straight ahead. "...So you guys are kind of like my body guards huh?"  
Sal adjusts his sunglasses, "Yeah... I guess you could say that."  
"Why do you ask Sweetheart?" Agostino asks her.  
"'Cuz there's five people with guns walking towards you!" She says terrified, "Are they friends of your's."  
"Are they Chinese?" Sal asks.  
"What?"  
"Do they look Asian?" Agostino says.  
"Yes."  
"Then no." he says, pulling out his gun. He pulls the slide back, Sal reloads his gun and does the same. Sam hides, trembling behind Agostino.  
"What's gonna' happen to me?"  
"Nothin's gonna' happen to you Sweetheart... the real question is, whether anything is going to happen to us." Agostino chews on his gum.  
"What d'ya wanna' do?" Sal asks his brother.  
"I don't know. We'll have to wing it, protect the girl at all costs."  
"You got it."  
Agostino goes running diagnolly to his left, while Sal goes to his right. BLAM!BLAM!BLAM! he doesn't stop, he fires like a madman. He fires until he runs out of bullets. He ducks around a corner, Sam is next to him, he puts his hand on her stomach telling her not to move.  
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!"  
"Remember to stay behind me."  
"Did you get anyone?" She asks him.  
"I'm not sure." he looks towards another building across the street. He sees Sal hiding, completely uninjured, parallel to where he stands. He stick his head out cautiously, a Triad's mutilated body is shot full of bullets, lying in a puddle of blood.  
"Yeah I got one."  
A Triad runs towards Sal, firing. Sal is too freaked out and guarded to do anything. Agostino reloads his gun and jumps out from around the corner. He feels someone tug on his shirt, figuring it's Sam he ignores it. BLAM! BLAM! He pumps a Triad full of lead, he glows blood twirls to the rocky street below.  
"Stay behind me stay behind me!"  
"Oh my god! Theres so much blood! I want to go home."  
Agostino ignores the Triads in front of him and goes for the one who's firing at Sal. The Triad is now pressed against a wall, Sal is just around the corner from him, and he knows it. Agostino can see the Triad getting ready to jump around the corner. The Triads belly and rib cage tears open and blood sprays on the wall behind him. He slumps over and his gun hits the ground with a "tcchhk" scratching metal sound.  
The gun had landed in Sal's view and he picks it up. Then he jumps around the corner, only semi-startled he's met by a Triad pointing a gun at him. The Triad is more surprised though, and it gives Sal the advantage.  
"MO-THER FU-CKER!!" He blows the Triad to bits, blasting him from his thighs all the way up to his neck and right under his chin. The shot in the chin is a killer, it makes the Triad fly backwards with a smacking sound as he hits the concrete. Streams of blood had hit Sal as he was firing, and now he was sprinkled with it.  
The last Triad runs towards Agostino and Samantha. They rip him apart from both sides. Bullets in the back and bullets in the abdomen. A speeding Hood's Rumpo has it's breaks slammed down on, and it hits the dying Triad as he's being shot. His grill is totally trashed in the process and is filmed over with a layer of blood.  
Agostino runs up to the drivers side. "Get out of the van."  
"Fuck you nigga'!" The Red Jacks member screams annoyed.  
Agostino takes his gun and points it at the window, firing holes through but not hitting the man inside. He takes his hand and open up the door. Then he pulls the guy out by his red and black jacket throwing him on the ground. The guy starts to get up immediately.  
"MAN YOU FUCKIN' BITCH!" As the man is frantically rising to his feet, Agostino slams a foot into his face, and points the gun at him. The gangster gets the message. Sam sits in the middle and Agostino drives. As their driving away they hear the man behind them screaming. Then BAM! BAM! BAM! Sal can see the guy shooting at them running after the van. They gain speed and loose him.  
"Ssshhh... It's okay Sweetheart." Agostino says comforting Samantha, his hand rubbing her dark hair, his gun still in it.  
"I think it would be safe to take her to Misty's, besides it is Diablo turf, and El Burro said that a lot of the Diablos with the blue bandannas hang out there right now. It's probably safe."  
  
"Yeah you're right." Sam wraps her arms around Agostino, who drives towards Misty's in Portland. 


	24. 16: Trent & 8ball

TRENT & 8-BALL:  
  
Trent swings the door to the house open, and enters, crouched, dragging something. He leans his shoulder on the doorframe. Tony can see that Trent's got his gun in his left hand, Tony can tell he's been dragging something because Trent was right-handed. Tony doesn't move but he does strain to see what it is.  
"Tony, Sam here? Samantha's not here is she."  
"Huh? Oh, no she ain't here, I had Agostino and Sal take her."  
"Good." he says then he brings the object he's been dragging into view, a S.W.A.T. member. He drags him all the way to the couch then he sits his back against the arm rest, leaving the cop bleeding on the hardwood floor. "Where'd they take her."  
"Holy shit you brought a fuckin' cop in here. You know there's going to be like ninety Mobsters in here in half an hour, and they'll kill him if they see 'em."  
The cop is breathing heavily and his eyes are open only slightly, other than that he doesn't have any interaction with the enviornment.  
"Why are so many people comin'?" 8-ball asks coming in, he closes the door behind him.  
"Fidelio found the money, they're gonna bring it here."  
8-ball looks around, "Where's Fido? He with Fidelio?"  
"The cops got him."  
"What the fuck are you talkin' about?!"  
"Fidelio called a little while ago, he said he got the money, but he lost you guys, and he watched Fido get busted. When I got the call I told them to take the girl somewhere else, because it'll be swarmin' with my guys soon, they left, and then you came in."  
"The cops busted Fido." 8-ball says amazed.  
"I want you guys to go get him out, he'll be in a holdin' cell, that should be the easiest time to get him. Take some of my guys with you when they walk through the door."  
8-ball opens the door and goes outside.  
"Where the fuck's he goin'?" Tony asks.  
"Oh, there's a S.W.A.T. van out there, he's got to get rid of it."  
Tony runs out onto the lawn yelling at 8-ball, the sun is going down and it's getting dark, it still hasn't stopped raining. "8-ball! 8-ball!"  
8-ball stops the truck. "What?"  
"Just hide it, you can use it when you go to get Fido."  
"Hey... Tony that's not a bad idea man, hold up, I'll go park it over there. We can put a lot of your guys in the back, that way we'll have a full arsenal of people in a seconds."  
  
Releasing The Caged Fido Part 1:  
  
TRENT 8-BALL & FIDELIO:  
  
It's been a half hour, and everyone is ready to risk their lives for one imprisoned man, Fido. Fifty to Sixty Mobsters fill the home, all of them with some type of loaded weapon and a few with sharp objects. Trent and 8-ball weren't quite ready to kill cops - it would make their records worse and it was as bad as killing innocent pedestrians to them. The difference now was, they had to do it to get back Fido, and that meant more than caring about a bunch of men who wanted them either jailed or dead.  
The David Duchovney looking doctor, is examining the S.W.A.T. van including blood stains. A lot of the mobsters had noticed his resemblance to the X-files actor, and had taken to calling him Fox.  
"Well," he says, "I did major in forensic psychology, but I'm not quite an expert on the situation since I focus mostly on surgical procedures within my medical career. You can see some gunpowder on the windshield over there by the passanger-side window, and 8-ball said he was deaf in his left ear. After the loud noise the S.W.A.T. guy was bleeding right?"  
"Yeah." 8-ball says nodding his head.  
"The bullet ricocheted of the window and hit the cop in the leg."  
"Okay now what about 8-ball's ear?"  
"...I can't tell how long it'll stay that way at all. If he's going to go into a shooting frenzy he might need someone to be his left ear for him, or he may end up dead.  
Fidelio walks over to 8-ball, "Yeah okay I'll watch out for him."  
"Okay I have to go check up on the cop. You guys better be careful, you come back here all fucked up and I'm the one who has to deal with it," everyone starts loading into the van, "... and don't get yourselves killed either."  
The army of Mobsters is loaded into the van most carrying different weapons than the next, a man in the background hums 'The ants go marching one by one' which he is obviously listening to on his CD player. A lot of these guy knew Fido, and the ones who didn't like him, respected him, and that's all that mattered. It was the first time that the Mob had ever been this ready to start a war with the LCPD, but Tony was ready to exact revenge.  
8-ball turns to Trent, "You know man, you haven't seen your daughter all day."  
"I know, I hope she's safe."  
"She's with the Nico brothers man, of course she's safe, those two guy would chop their heads off before they let anything happen to that little girl."  
"How do you know that?"  
"I don't it's just instinct, beside they're loyal and tough, they wouldn't let anyone harm one hair on her head. Come on let's get the fuck outta' here." 8-ball leans forward turning on the ignition, the truck roars to life, "I don't know why man... but I love that sound."  
"When I get back I need to spend some time with Sam. Take her out to eat or something."  
"Take her to get a haircut, she looks like Agostino could be her father, that mothafucka's hair touches his lower back!"  
  
"Yeah well, she likes her hair that way, besides woman don't look good with short hair."  
"Yeah, but she's your daughter right? How good do you really want her to look, you want her bringin' home a Ving Rhames lookin' guy, fuckin' buff ass son of a bitch with an attitude? Or a Backstreet Boy? Cuz' the better she looks the more guy problems she - and you - will have."  
"Maybe I'll take her to get a haircut."  
"Hey I wanted to ask you Trent, and I want you to be straight up. How do you feel about wastin' cops?"  
"It's like killin' civillians man, sometimes they get in the way. It's fucked up, and I don't want to kill 'em but sometimes it might come down to it. They ain't like us man, we chose this shit, are families suffer for it. These guys are doin' right by catchin' a lot of these motherfuckers, all you got to remember is they're after YOU. AND in a certain way that shit ain't right cuz' they don't know you, and they're not all good either. What you got to remember is you know YOU and that makes them wrong if you like who you are and they try to take it from you. Ask me if I want to? No. But, ask me if I will to get Fido away from them? Hell YES..."  
"Couldn't of said it better myself."  
8-ball pushes down on the gas going for top speed he buckles his seat belt, Trent does the same. "What the fuck're you gonna' do?"  
"Show them we're serious!"  
They are now only a few yards from the LCPD department, Trent notices a parked cop car with two police officers outside. They are coming up from behind at full speed, a disastrious hell-struck explosion of fusing metal sends a wave of mass destruction that rings throughout the entire street.  
The S.W.A.T. van is nearly untouched with only minor dents, 8-ball manges to stop it before it hits anyone on the sidewalk, which is where the van ends up.  
Everyone gets out and 8-ball runs towards the cop car. The rear of the car is obliterated, it looks like it was struck by the ultimate bolt of lightning, and is several feet away from where it originally was.  
The bloody and crushed body of one of the officers is lying four feet in front of the car his blood everywhere. The other cop is still alive inside the car trapped, his body is torn by all kinds of metal objects and he wouldn't live for more than fifteen minutes.  
"This is fucked up..." 8-ball says looking at it.  
"I know man, but you have to forget about it, we have to worry about Fido, besides it's done now, you can't change the past, and we can change the future later."  
Fidelio runs towards the cop in the car. The cop screams in agony, and tears roll down his face, Fidelio raises his gun - a woman screams "Oh my GOD!" as Fidelio sends channels of bullets through the cops body ripping out his life. Fidelio looks totally disgusted, "Let's get this shit over with, I don't even like cops and this shit is effectin' me."  
Fidelio, has a Silver handgun with a black grip, 8-ball has the submachinegun Barrettas, and Trent has a Spas twelve shotgun. 8-ball kicks open the double doors to the station, "Say hello to 8-ball ladies!"  
A flame bursts from Trent's gun blasting a hole through the Cop sitting at the counter. Two cops run out and Fidelio and 8-ball simultaneously turn them into swiss cheese.  
The other mobsters rush the building.  
  
The breakout had begun. 


	25. 17: Fido

FIDO:  
  
Releasing The Caged Fido Part 2:  
  
Fido sits in a holding cell with four other prisoners. Three of them are a diverse group of gangsters, they stand in a corner of the room having a verbal argument that will probably turn into a brawl. They all here a loud gunshot echo throughout the jail.  
Everyone stops talking and moves to the front of the cell anxiously straining to see, confused, they don't know what's going on at all.  
A Yakuza turns to Fido, "What's going on?"  
Fido knows, his team was too loyal to leave him to rot in a jail somewhere, but he didn't think that it would be this fast, or of this magnitude the gunshots get louder, and higher in numbers as time goes on.  
Two cops run into the room, one of them has been shot and he fires through the door before his partner closes it.  
"Let us the fuck out of here you fuckin' pigs, we don't wanna' die!" a Diablo screams at one of the cops.  
The cop turns his gun on the Diablo, "Shut up! Shut your fuckin' MOUTH! My partner's dying you son of a bitch!" a bullet tears through his shoulder, then another one through his left ear. The wounded cop expels rounds of bullets at the invading Mobster.  
Fido watches the cop with the bullet wound drag himself across the floor, holding onto his gun as if he were holding onto his life. The cop puts his back against the wall at the end of the hallway and sits bleeding. A Mobster comes through the door and the cop again resists, he shoots the one mobster and another that comes through the door as if he were picking off ants with bug-spray.  
A Mobster comes through the door and without looking at the cop looks straight at Fido, the cop stares at the Mobster then says in aw, "Fidelio Gerodi..."  
His gun rises in front of his face and he aims directly at Fidelio, who goes berserk, his gun is brought to his face faster and he fires as soon as he aims it. Fidelio successfully ends the final gatekeeper that had kept him from releasing the hound from hell; Fido.  
"Holy shit Fido man, I never thought you'd get caught again. I told Trent and 8-ball that I was going to be the one to get you, 'cuz, you know... I kinda' feel responsible. Everyone's waitin' outside, we musta' wasted almost the entire LCPD!"  
Fido points to the lock, and Fidelio pauses, looking at the other men in the cell, all of them are gangsters from rival groups. 8-ball and Trent walk in.  
"What do you want me to do about them? Kill em'?"  
Trent and 8-ball look at each other, then at the prisoners, then 8- ball looks at Fidelio, "Naw man, let em' go -- hey if we let you go, you'll put in a good word for us with your bosses?"  
All of them agree, "Okay," Trent says, "that ain't gonna' work to well but, shit I don't see why not, they can't hurt us."  
Fidelio shows up with the keys and unlocks the cell, the other prisoners run out of the cell like little kids on a snow-day.  
Everyone rewelcomes Fido into the group, shaking his hand and giving him hugs, and respect. Fido had never been so honered and it made him feel good to know that he had friends who wouldn't let him down at any cost. They couldn't tell, but it was probably the happiest night of his life.  
The group heads out of the holding cell hallway and into the main room of the buidling. Fido can see blood from floor to ceiling and bodies of lawmen and crooks slumped over desks,chairs,some of them have even been shot so many times that their faces were disfigured from blood and flesh. It seemed excessive and made Fido wonder how he was worth it. It didn't upset him, he was not sad, it was just what he wondered about. 'Is one man worth all of this, especially a man like me?' Fido knew that Armies did it all the time and it perplexed him, sending out twenty to thirty people, and half of them die to rescue one person. Are the lives of fifteen people worth it to save one?  
It made no sense, but there he was the product of a successful rescue mission that ended more lives than it saved. He respected all those who had died that night, for if it weren't for any of them, his rescue wouldn't have seemed so grand and amazing.  
Fidelio has his hand on Fido's back as they walk through the ruins of Liberty Police Station, "I just got a call from Tony a little while ago, you know what he said?"  
Trent turns his head, looking at Fidelio, "You talkin' to me?"  
  
"Yeah, You know what he said?"  
"What?"  
  
"He said he told Agostino and Sal to take Samantha to Misty's place!"  
"What!? What the fuck, man Tony must be losing his fuckin' mind man!"  
Theres a brief silence then 8-ball breaks it, "Fidelio?"  
"Hm?"  
"You said that you saw Max Payne?"  
  
"Yeah."  
"But you didn't kill him."  
"No."  
8-ball pulls the slides back on both his guns, inserting bullets into the chambers. "Then the mothafucka's still here somewhere, he's to crazy to leave."  
Fido nods his head, stepping forward. Trent hands Fido a Desert Eagle. Fido knew Max's style now and it wasn't in Max's character to give up at almost any cost, he truly was a man with nothing to loose.  
Like a ghost decending out of darkness, Max Payne emerges from around a corner, weilding two Barrettas like warriors swords, the guns explode ejecting fireballs from the chamber. To Fido Max seemed like justice personified as one person, and if you weren't just you were fucked.  
One of the bullets mutilates a Mobsters shoulder the next one hits him in the chest, he grabs himself, screaming, "AHH! It's hot! It's hot! OH GOD!" he falls down moaning in a puddle of his own blood. Everyone fires at Max, they see him scurry like a rat out of the Police Station. They all run after him, but one of the Mobsters takes after Max like a raging dog. Whoever Max shot must have been important to the guy, because he fires so many times that he hits, a building three cars and a passing pedestrian in the arm. When he hits the civillian Trent stops him.  
"Jesus Crist man are you fuckin' out of your mind."  
"The fuckin' femmina, killed my father!"  
  
Everyone takes after Max, but somehow he manages to slip away, lost in the distance. 


	26. 17: Max

MAX:  
  
Max sits at a desk in Liberty Police Department, looking over Trenton Baldassare's Police files on a computer. He gets halfway down the file when he hears a loud 'BANG!' like a doors been kicked in.  
"Say hell to 8-ball ladies!" a shotgun shell rips through the air and crashes through a cops body.  
'I knew it!' Max thinks, 'I knew this would happen.' Mobsters rush the room and start blasting the shit out of the police station. Max runs low, scrambling around debris and and bits of floating paper. A bullet flies past hand, and his mind slows down his perception enough for him to actually see the bullet, it just barely misses him.  
He turns around still running, with the Barrettas drawn, he discharges seven rounds of ammunition into the Mobster that had almost shot him. Each shell-casing hitting the ground with a slomotion 'klnck', time goes back to normal and the blood soaked Mobster slumps over one of the desks.  
Max runs for a room in the back of the station, he closes the door with his left hand, his right still pointing a gun. His hand slowly slides down the door as he realizes that he's going to be okay. He takes some pills and pops them into his mouth. He was beginning to have feeling again, but he hadn't eaten all day he wondered if he'd ever get something to eat, or whether he'd be able to taste it.  
Out of character for the situation he scratches his tonge up against his teeth to see if his tongue has feeling, it does and he can taste the tobacco on his teeth. 'Maybe I'll get a cheesburger' he thinks, 'yeah I want a cheesburger.' Max and others had come to realize that when you are in a life threatening situation, your thoughts are jumbled, and you begin to think things you wouldn't normally have thought of just to stay sane.  
The door burst open unexpectedly and slams into Max pinning him against a wall. He reaches over around the door and fires once.  
"AHH! Goddamn it!" Max is able to move away from the wall, he swings the door open the rest of the way, and looks at the Mobster lying on the ground holding the left side of his ribcage.  
The Mobster gives Max a look that could kill, then lifts his gun, it blurrs moving to Max like an infinite strobe light. Max's gun however is brought forward without a slomotion effect, it looks to Max like he'd lifted the gun at present speed. Really that meant he'd lifted his gun twice as fast as it seemed possible to him. The bullet flies through the air for eternity, it finally meet its mark hitting the Mobster in the head.  
Max stays in the room for at least ten minutes picking of six Mobsters as they try to enter, the lucky seventh Mobster catches Max's attention rather than his gunplay.  
"Gerodi?" Fidelio Gerodi was an infamous Mobster literally anyone and everyone who had spent a day in Liberty in the last year knew who he was, he'd taken over Luigi's Sex Club and was being investigated for the murder of fifty-seven cops who were all working on a case to see if Luigi's harbored prostitutes. How Gerodi could ever manage to kill fifty-seven cops was beyond Max, but that's what made him infamous.  
Max is determined to get Gerodi, he points his gun point blank at Gerodi's chest. Fidelio bolts out of the room fast, and Max ejects his clips reloading the guns. He decides to wait in the room for Gerodi to come back. Some time afterwards he gets his chance. He hears them talking like nothing's happened and he's determined to break the mood and show them that what they did will not go unpunished.  
Max had no special feelings towards cops, he didn't have a connection with them just because they worked in his proffession. What he hated was that they were indiscriminately murdered by a bunch of gangsters, ther was not reason to kill almost everyone, some of the cops didn't even have guns. Families were not taken into account, lives were unnecessarily taken, and Max was going to show them that that was a bad idea.  
Max Payne swerves around a corner and pulls the triggers of his guns, the shells jumping from the chamber flying close to his face. A Mobster in the group is hit in the heart and he falls over screaming bloody murder "AHH! It's hot! It's hot! OH GOD!" The other Mobsters angrily fire at Max and a bullet almost takes his head off. He decides to refrain from going any further. He darts away running low and fast. He pushes a man down in the street.  
"Hey what the fuck is your problem man!?" BAM!BAM!BAM!BAM!BAM!BAM! the bullets come non stop and Max shiver constantly trying to grasp the insanity of the situation. He feels a chill down his spine, an amazing sense of cool, his life seemed inches from over and it was a little terrifying.  
A man grabs his arm and falls in the street almost getting hit by a Patriot, his blood flows like a river, and he makes nonsensical groaning noises squirming on the rocky concrete. The shooting stops and Max is able to get away.  
After fifteen minutes of non-stop running, feels his lungs burn, he can practically hear the sound of his heart beating which pulses below his ribs. He's probably lost them but he keeps running. He turns a corner and slams into something soft and small. The something is a little girl, dressed in pink and black, she's a little small, but Max can tell from experience that she's probably at least fifteen years old.  
"................Oh... My god!" Max says panting, "I...I'm sorry, you okay." he reaches his hand out and helps her up, she's totally frantic.  
"No, no, theres these two guys chasing us! You have to help."  
Max looks around the little girl and spots a long haired man in a Mafia outfit and another man who looks the exact same, except with short spikey hair and a kind of 'un-shaved' look about him. Both of them are about an inch or an inch and a half taller than Max, and they are both carrying guns on them.  
"These guys?" Max asks her, drawing his weapons.  
"No, those are my friends. NOO!" As she says it the two men stop right in front of Max without paying any attention to him they turn around and just start firing off rounds of bullets, blasting the hell out of Diablos, right in front of him. The little girl turns her head covering her ears.  
No more Diablo's show up and only the bodies of dead ones remain.  
Max points his guns at the two Mobsters, pressing them against the back of their heads.  
"Who are you?"  
They both look at him like he's just asked the most perplexing question on the planet.  
"You don't read the newspaper?" the long haired guy asks.  
"I'm Sal, and this is my brother Agostino Nico. We're protectin' this girl for a friend of ours okay? These Diablo's attacked us, and we were protectin' ourselves."  
"Who's the girl? Why is she so important."  
"SHE'S just the DAUGHTER of a GUY I KNOW!"  
"What's her name?" He asks pressing both guns harder into their heads. He just knew somehow that he had to get this girl away from these guys, and probably her father too if he's sending her out with Mobsters. The first step was knowing who she was.  
The little girl is confused and shaken, she doesn't know what to do, "Samantha!" she says hastily, "Samantha Baldassare!" A new chill leaks down Max's back.  
"Like... Trenton Baldassare?"  
"How the hell do you know that name?..." Sal asks threateningly.  
"I'm leaving," Max says, "I'm not going to arrest you, but I am leaving and I'm taking the girl."  
Agostino laughs, "No you're not!"  
"She can't live with her father, and she's not staying in this city. She's going to a foster home."  
"No!" Samantha says "I don't want to go anywhere I want to go home and see my dad!"  
"You have to go. It's better for you."  
"NO! Shut UP!" she says crying, "You don't know me! I just want to see my dad and have a normal day for once!"  
"You see man?" Sal says, "You can't take her. She can't go to live in one of those places."  
"I have to take her it's my job." Max realizes that he could easily ignore it, he wasn't one for following orders. He wasn't sure how he felt about taking her away, he didn't like the idea that he might be ruining her life forever, but kill crazy maniacs didn't seem like a good alternative.  
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that." Agostino says, he swerves around and in the slow motion effect his fist flies at Max's face, Max dodges it but somehow...  
  
'Crack!' The world darkens once again. 


	27. 17: Sam Agostino & Sal

SAM AGOSTINO & SAL:  
  
The three of them sit in the Rumpo XL unspoken. Sam's arms are still wrapped around Agostino, Sal finds this to be rather unusual since she seems to have calmed down quite a bit since all the shooting. The drive seems to continue for ever and Agostino decides to break the silence to speed up time.  
  
"Sam?"  
  
"Huh?" She says, barely looking up at him.  
  
"Why'd you're mom send you here, there's nothing but prostitutes and drug dealers. You've already seen all the random gang violence that springs up all over the place, your mom must have known that all of this was here before she sent you."  
  
"Because she hates me." she says quietly.  
  
"That sounds familiar." Sal says peering out the window.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asks him demandingly.  
  
"That's like, the exact same thing your father said about you, --"  
  
"This time it's true though."  
  
"How's that?" Agostino asks.  
  
"I got into a fight with my mom about who treats me better, the courts said I had to go live with my mom because at the time my dad couldn't take care of me. When dad was put on that show, a cop called our house and told us dad had escaped. My mom sent me down here to live with my dad to 'teach me a lesson' is how she put it... She defied the courts order and now I'm going to get sent to a foster home the minute the cops put it all together, and she did the WHOLE thing on purpose!"  
  
Sal slowly and barely turns his head away from the window like his eyes are fixed on something that he couldn't possibly be looking at since the van is moving, he also has a very hypnotic nature about his voice, "You know you give your dad the impression... that you hate him."  
  
"I know, he's never told me but I know. I don't know where the hell he gets it from."  
  
Agostino laughs, "Do you realize that the first day we met you, you asked why you should respect your father?"  
  
"I did?" She says, faking confused.  
  
"Yes you did." the Nicos say at the same time.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know, he doesn't really seem like my dad anymore you know? He seems kinda' like, one of my friends or something."  
  
"Yeah if your friends shoot people!" Sal say laughing at her.  
  
"Shut up!" she says, punching him with a mixture of fake anger and happiness. "...He seems more like a dad to me."  
  
"Who?" Sal says confused, "Me?"  
  
"Yeah," she says smiling.  
  
"Holy shit!"  
  
"I could imagine if you were my dad, you don't look like me though..."  
  
"What about me?" Agostino asks, still looking straight at the road.  
  
"You seem like, hmmm... Nope, I can't say it."  
  
"Well Jesus Christ, you told him, and you can't tell me."  
  
"Uh-uh, noo waaaay..." she says slowly shaking her head.  
  
"Awww. What a gyp."  
  
They pull up next to a ratty payphone in the Red Light District, around familiar Diablo territory. They get out of the van facing the away from the front of the payphones towards a large brick apartment complex. The outside of the building is spread apart with hookers, and drug dealers, preparing to deal scores, and score deals.  
  
It was dark flim noir setting, that at this point even Samantha could not get used to. Up until this point she'd been in a nice nearly mansion sized home, and a reletively clean rip-off of Baskin Robbin's ice cream. She had seen a lot of mayhem, but now she was really exposed to the seedy underbelly of the worlds worst city.  
  
She looks on, mesmarized, with both interest and disgust, "I ca not believe you guys actually brought me here."  
  
"You were the one who said you wouldn't mind..." Sal says taking a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, he puts them back, "Shit, I really gotta' quit."  
  
"Listen Sweetheart," Agostino says, "I don't really know where else to take you, we don't have to stay here but it's dangerous to be cruisin' the city when it's almost nighttime lookin' for a place to stay, I know this shit ain't right but we have to do it."  
  
They walk up to the front of the apartment, Agostino point to the intercom. "Okay Sal, call up Misty?"  
  
"I'll give you a cigarette if you do it for me."  
  
"This ain't jail man, I can buy my own cigarettes."  
  
"Yeah but you're out."  
  
"How do you know?" Agostino says quickly.  
  
"Oh, trust me, I know." he says just as responsive.  
  
"Man just do it!"  
  
"Goddamn it! I hate talkin' to that bitch!" He presses the button, "Hey bitch, you up there? --" Sal winces, he meant to say Misty's name.  
  
"Who the fuck you callin' a bitch? Who is this? I'm gonna' come down there and chop your fuckin' nuts off asshole."  
  
"Sorry about that Misty, I musta' pressed the wrong button or somethin'... goddamn controls... One of the other girls likes bein' called names, I just slipped up that's all."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Who what?  
  
"Which one of my girls likes to be called names?"  
  
Sal has to think, Misty is smarter than he imagined she was, "...Uhh... Susan -- Maria - No... Trudy! That's the one... Trudy."  
  
"Yeah fuckin' right smart-ass, what the hell do you want?"  
  
"You see, I got a girl down here --"  
  
She cuts him off, "I'll be down in a minute!"  
  
"No wait! You don't get it! Goddamn it! Stupid bitch!"  
  
"What's he so uptight about?" She asks Agostino.  
  
"You'll see when Misty gets down here..." Agostino looks down at his shirt, "Holy shit..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"There's bullet hole in my suit."  
  
"Really? Let me see?" She says opening up Agostino's shirt, she sees a small hole through the right side of Agostino's suit jacket. "Wow, you're lucky."  
  
Misty comes barreling down the steps so fast that her last step is actually a jump down three steps, she gets out the door, then looks at Samantha. After a long pause she looks at Sal like he's the stupidest man that ever lived.  
  
"You've got to be fuckin' kiddin' me! She can't be more than fourteen years old." She crosses her arms, "Now listen to me, the last time you brought an underaged girl in here, the cops were all over us for months, it always gets worse when you bring these young girls in and you know that."  
  
"Hey, that last girl had an ID I saw it on her, she even showed it to me! I made a mistake I've never brought you a young girl on purpose, and you better believe me when I say that."  
  
"...Yeah... You're right, she was only a year away anyway, no one would have been able to tell. Still, you must have brought 'Alice' to this 'Wonderland' for a reason."  
  
"Her name's not Alice, it's Samantha," he says pretending he didn't know what she meant. "she needs a place to stay..."  
  
"...And?"  
  
"And... and, nothin', that's it..."  
  
"You brought her here to crash with me and the girls, you know how many perverts are going to be trying to reach up her skirt!?"  
  
"I was kind of hoping you knew a way around that Misty."  
  
"I do, if you have gun."  
  
Sal reaches inside his pocket and pulls out his Barretta. He holds it by the Barrel handing it to Misty, she refuses.  
  
"Hey, don't give it to me. I ain't the one that's gonna' need it!" Everyone looks at Samantha.  
  
"I ain't givin her this thing."  
  
"Yeah, and I'm not taking it." she adds. --  
  
"WHAT THE FUCK!" A voice echoes from the background, a loud voice from Liberty streets.  
  
A Diablo bearing a red bandanna is exiting the building parellel to Misty's. He's got his posse with him, and a shitload of guns that prove in Liberty, you always have a right to bear arms.  
  
The Diablo runs towards Agostino and Sal, blasting his gun, prostitutes run for cover, screaming.  
  
Agostino grabs Sam and runs for the van, with his other hand he points to the driver's side, "Sal, Drive."  
  
"I know, I know." Sal says Jumping into the front of the van. Agostino and Sal quickly rush to the back, the get inside and the van takes off.  
  
They drive up the hill, barely making it any distance at all before a large 'BANG!' emminates from below them and the levelness of the truck is thrown off.  
  
Sal swerves the car, trying to turn in front of a Pay N' Spray, instead the car slowly tilts and the right side slams onto the ground. Sam exits the van first, dazed, she runs for her life. Sal emmerges from the wreckage, he takes his glasses off for the first time examining them, they're broken. "SHIT!" he puts the dark cracked sunglasses back on his face. He slumps over what would be the bottom of the van as he tries to climb his way out. A Diablo rushes at the tilted Rumpo, screams emintate as Sal fires his gun, BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! He barely misses the Diablo, his accuracy is so good that the man decides to hide and duck for cover.  
  
Sal gets his chance and falls out of the van, his back slamming violently into the rocky grated concrete, "AUUGHH! Goddamn IT!" his back feels like it's been scratched with razor blades.  
  
He gets to his feet and runs to the back of the van, as the door opens he waves to his already exiting brother to hurry up. "Come on, we got to move!"  
  
"I know," Agostino says switching his gun to his right hand, "where's Sam? where did Sam go? -  
  
- Sam hears four gunshots in the background, she slams into someone and it knocks her to the ground. The out of breathe man bears a slight resemblance to Fido, one of the gangster's she had met earlier, but he did have a much less foreboding look to him than Fido had had.  
  
"................Oh... My god!" the man says panting, "I...I'm sorry, you okay."  
  
"No, no, theres these two guys chasing us! You have to help." She didn't know exactly if it even was only two guys, but that's how many she'd seen. She sees it was a mistake to give him that number when she was so vague on it. The man unexpectadly pulls two guns from his jacket, and immediatly assumes she's talking about Sal and Agostino.  
  
Who are both now running up to her.  
  
"These guys?"  
  
"No, those are my friends. NOO!" she screams not wanting to hear another gunshot, Sal and Agostino ignore the man, and start blasting like they are escaping hell.  
  
They get every Diablo chasing them for the moment, and then they lower their guns. They feel the familiar cold chill of a gun press agains the back of their heads. Samantha, confused, is the only one who isn't met with a barrel.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
They can't believe that anyone in Liberty wouldn't know who they were,"You don't read the newspaper?" Agostino asks him.  
  
"I'm Sal, and this is my brother Agostino Nico. We're protectin' this girl for a friend of ours okay? These Diablo's attacked us, and we were protectin' ourselves."  
  
"Who's the girl? Why is she so important."  
  
This question angers Sal, who can't see the point of any of this, "SHE'S just the DAUGHTER of a GUY I KNOW!"  
  
"What's her name?" the man asks pressing the guns harder into their heads.  
  
Samantha figures she'll get to go home if they just answer all the questions, she hastily does it for them, "Samantha!.... Samantha Baldassare."  
  
The look of reconginition that fills the man's face terrifies Samantha.  
  
"Like... Trenton Baldassare?"  
  
Sal is immediately realizing that there is something really strange going on, and the way that the man had said Trent's name suggested that he was an enemy. "How the hell do you know that name?..."  
  
"I'm leaving," the man says abruptly, "I'm not going to arrest you, but I am leaving and I'm taking the girl."  
  
Agostino laughs, that has to be the stupidest thing anyone's ever said to him at this point. "No you're not!"  
  
"She can't live with her father, and she's not staying in this city. She's going to a foster home."  
  
Max strikes a nerve within' little Samantha, and she gets completely depressed, "No! I don't want to go anywhere I want to go home and see my dad!"  
  
"You have to go. It's better for you."  
  
She can't believe what she's hearing, the guy acts like he knows everything, "NO! Shut UP!" she bursts into tears, sobbing, "You don't know me! I just want to see my dad and have a normal day for once!"  
  
Sal can understand her dilemma, he had once been in a similar situation where he would be taken to a foster home, going there eventually led to his life of crime. The two of them had become notorious and Sal's first arrest was for the murder of his abusive foster father. He shot him seven times, no real evidence was brought up against him, the jury said it was only circumstancial and he was released without being convicted.  
  
Him and his brother had been through some rough shit, and that's what made them so protective of this little girl.  
  
"You see man? You can't take her. She can't go to live in one of those places."  
  
"I have to take her it's my job." Somehow Sal gets the impression that the man is lying, proabably to save his own ass.  
  
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that." Agostino says, swerving around he takes a swing at the man's face, the man dodges it. 'Crack!' the butt of Sal's gun smashes into the back of the man's skull.  
  
"Goddamn, you hit him hard."  
  
"What'd you expect." Let's see who this asshole is." Sal reaches into the man's wallet, he pulls out credit cards, all of them are to safe to steal, he drops them on the ground. A badge is inside the wallet... "NYPD... You ever seen that show NYPD Blue? I hate that peice of shit."  
  
Agostino ignores his brothers question looking at the wallet, "NYPD? What's he doin' in Liberty City?"  
  
"How the hell should I know?" Sal says putting a large roll of money in his pocket, "I'll tell you this though, he gets paid an awful lot of money for a cop."  
  
Agostino looks at the ID in the wallet, "Max Payne," Samantha wraps her arms around Agostino again quietly clinging to him. "I think I've heard that name before." he says.  
  
"I don't care if you have, we got to get the hell out of here, when someone's knocked out, you never know when they'll wake up. It could be two seconds from now."  
  
"Yeah, you're right lets get the hell out of here."  
  
They decide to go back to the home in Shoreside Vale regardless of what might be going on there. They get inside and Agostino throws his gun on the coffee table, sitting on the couch. "Ahh shit. This has been a hard day." Samantha sits down next to him, and Sal sits himself down in an easy chair, his gun still gripped in his hand, like an alcoholic with a beer bottle.  
  
"What the..." Sal leans forward. On the couch across from Agostino sits Tony and another man in a S.W.A.T. uniform with his leg taped up, both of them are laughing like crazy. Watching some comedy, acting like buddies.  
  
"Man, this shit just keeps getting weirder and weirder." 


	28. 18: The Crew

THE CREW:  
  
The entire group has completely reassembled, Fidelio, Fido, Agostino, Sal, Samantha, Trent, 8-ball, and Tony are all in the same room, most of them are doing the kinds of things you do when you've just finished a big job. Most of them are much too tired to celebrate. Sal and Fido, are asleep and 8-ball plays cards with Trent and Fidelio. Agostino, Sam, Tony, and the S.W.A.T. officer watch T.V.  
  
Fidelio glares at Tony.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"You're actin' like Mr.SWAT over here is your best friend." 8-ball and Trent look at each other, they know Fidelio's stirring up some shit.  
  
"Yeah so? He's cool... Don't worry about it, if the cops were any kind of a problem then I'd already be in prison somewhere, come on after all these years, how am I going to get caught?"  
  
Fidelio gets up from his seat, his arms outstretched, raising his eyebrows, "Makin' a stupid mistake like THIS! He's a witness! He ain't just a witness, he's a COP witness."  
  
"Hey calm your fuckin' ass down, I got this one covered Fidelio, trust me."  
  
Fidelio pulls his gun from his suit-jacket, "If you don't kill the motherfucker right now! I will!"  
  
Agostino leans over the couch, "Hey Tony? I hate to admit it but, normally I'd agree with him, problem is, I got a little girl here and she's been through a lot of shit, and the last thing she needs is you blastin' away a cop because he's a 'witness'."  
  
"FUCK YOU! He IS a witness!" Fidelio says screaming at Agostino.  
  
Tony puts his hand up, trying to calm Fidelio down, "Don't worry about it I took care of it... Remember the guys I was tellin' you about in the LCPD, the ones that 'carry information' this is Marvin, that's what he does. He's gotten a lot of my boys out of some pretty deep shit with the cops, including Fido, if you brought him down here, I'm sure he'd recognize my friend Marvin."  
  
Fidelio looks at everybody in the room then back at the cop, "Oh and Trent and 8-ball just happened to take HIM hostage, that's fuckin' bullshit!"  
  
"Hey man..." Tony says smiling, "Half the guys in the LCPD work for me, why do you think it was so easy to get Fido out of Jail? You think those choppers, and cars, and vans just stopped comin' for no reason. You think that just because you're wearing a black suit and tie, that only people with black suits and ties were blowin' cops away?! Goddamn man, all these years I thought you were smartin' than that."  
  
Fidelio puts his gun down, there is a look of sheer relief and extreme clarity that passes his face, "You're serious!" He looks around the room at everyone staring at him. "Everyone knew all of this shit, and no one told me?"  
  
"Me and 8-ball didn't know." Trent says honestly to Fidelio.  
  
"Well I just figured you guys did," Tony says, "after all this time, I would have thought it'd been obvious."  
  
8-ball laughs, "You mean you knew who this guy was when Trent dropped him in here?"  
  
"Well... no." Tony says, "Not right away, I didn't get a good look at his face the first time, but after you guys left, I recognized him, sure."  
  
Everyone in the room seems absolutely amazed. Fidelio puts his gun back in his jacket, but he's still not done with business.  
  
"What's he going to tell the ones that don't work for you? That he got lost trying to find his zipper while he was takin' a piss? Like five-hundred witnesses saw him take off in a S.W.A.T. truck, takin' hostage, by those guys," He says pointing to Trent and 8-ball. "he'll roll over on us if they find out he's lying."  
  
"Hey, come on, he's getting a sweet deal out of this, don't worry about it. He's going to tell them that a black guy and a white guy working for the Red Jacks tied him up and kept him in a basement, they kept him blindfolded but he got glimpses of their faces."  
  
"And?"  
  
"What the fuck do you think? He gives them false faces, they'll never catch us at this point, they're too deep in shit now to worry about him."  
  
"Tony.................." Fidelio takes a huge breathe, "You're sure this is gonna' work."  
  
"On my mother, Fidelio, you got my fuckin' word."  
  
Fidelio shakes Tony's hand, then he sits down in his chair looking at his cards, he pulls his head away for a second looking at the officer, "Hey Marvin?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You want in?"  
  
Marvin smiles, he looks at Tony, then at Fidelio "Sure man," he gets up on his good leg, limping to the poker table in the dining room. "I'm havin' REAL good luck today man... REAL good luck!"  
  
Trent puts his cards down on the table, "Fold..."  
  
8-ball laughs, "What the fuck you talkin' about 'fold'? You got a royal straight flush."  
  
Trent ignores 8-ball walking into the living room, he stands in front of the coffee table, looking at Agostino and Sam. Sam is under Agostino's left arm, her arms wrapped around his right shoulder. Trent doesn't seem upset nore happy, his reaction is almost inconceivable, blank faced.  
  
"Agostino," he smacks Agostino's leg, he wakes up groggily, "get up stairs."  
  
"What?... What time is it?"  
  
"It's like four o'clock in the morning, now get upstairs." Trent sounds like a father talking to his son.  
  
Agostino doesn't argue in the least, he gets up and immediately heads upstairs. As he leaves, Sam wakes up and quietly says goodbye.  
  
Trent sits down on the couch, trying to get his daughter to stay awake, "Hey..."  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Hey... Come on wake up, I want to talk to you."  
  
"'Bout what?"  
  
"Agostino and Sal...... What do you think of those guys?"  
  
"They're cool dad. Can I go to sleep now? I'm really tired."  
  
"I understand that," he says, "but not yet. What do you think of Agostino?" he catches a glimpse of recognition in Samantha's eyes, she knows what he's talking about.  
  
"I told you..." she says, "he's cool."  
  
"Yeah, I got that part... uh, - any - any- anything else?" he clears his throat, "about - (you know) - him?"  
  
"No." She says in a very serious tone, "Now can I go to bed?"  
  
"Yeah sure..." as she's walking up the stairs he adds, "I want to talk about this later."  
  
Trent heads up the steps after she's gone, 8-ball stops him, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, where the fuck do you think you're goin brother?"  
  
"Bed. I'm tired remember?"  
  
"Okay, but two things -"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The first thing is, even after winning the last game I'd say you owe me at least eight-hundred bucks. The second thing is you sleep DOWNstairs, and I get the queen-sized."  
  
"Who the fuck decided that!?"  
  
"Me."  
  
They stare at each other for a moment, then they burst out laughing, "Come on man?" 8-ball says, "Let me sleep on that bed for just one night and you can crash on the couch."  
  
"Why not in your bed downstairs?"  
  
"That's where Marvin's sleepin'."  
  
"FUCK! Fine, you can sleep there tonight but that is it man!"  
  
"Cool. - Hey!"  
  
"What now?"  
  
"I'll play you for it." 8-ball says holding up his lucky deck of cards, whoever wins gets the queen-sized bed for life."  
  
Trent has to think hard, "Fine," he says "but I really got to stop fuckin' gambling." 


	29. 18: Max

MAX:

Taking The Alternate Road:

Max Payne sits in a bar jam packed with people. They all stand on tables, jumping up and down like circus monkeys. Liberty City Survivor had come one, and the whole place went nuts. Max sits at the bar, the eroma of wafting cigarettes the dank smell of spilt alcohol, the 'old bar' look that says everything is made of hardwood and glass. He doesn't pay any attention to the screen, his head is swimming, and he takes some painkillers. Then he looks at the bartender.

"I need a drink."  
The bartender sits a Budweiser down on the table and Max swigs it like it's the cure for death. He takes a ten out of his pocket and slaps it on the table.

He burps, "Thanks chief."

"Don't mention it." The bartender sets another drink down on the table.

Max had made huge mistake, and he felt the price of his ignorance. He realized he could never bare to take away a man's daughter, what if it had been his daughter. What if she was still alive and someone wanted to take her from him. Now he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, he couldn't quite go after Trent, because arresting Trent would be like taking his daughter away, but it was his job. The Chief sent him down to Liberty to kill people, Trent is succeeding in becoming a Mob boss. 'Maybe he threw his little girl in the middle so that I'd feel sorry for him.' He doesn't understand anything, he takes another swig of beer -

"Wassup essa?"

Max ignores it, he thinks it's for someone else.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you homes."

Finally Max turns around, a Hispanic guy with a strong build stands in back of Max, he's got a tank-top and baggy jeans. His expensive shoes are ripped and torn like a dog had taken a hundred bites out of them. If Max were to stand up the man would be just above his jaw and no more. Oddly enough his bandanna is split in half, red on one side, and blue on the other.

"Can I help you with somethin' friend?"  
"Don't know dog, but we about to find out."

"What's that supposed to mean."

"You goin' after Trent right? Yo boss's been messin' with ya' so you don't know if you want to go after him anymore. Take the next step homes, go the different road, forget about him. Get away from the smalltime and get straight to the bigfish."

"Who are you?" Max says amazed.

The man ignores the question, "You're Max Payne right? I read your file. That's some serious shit!"

"You're a cop?"

"No! Shit... you want to get me fuckin' killed man? I'm a police informant for the FBI, always wanted to be a cop though, so now I guess I kinda' work for the FBI, once my supervising officer gets all the paperwork filled out."

"Being a cop will get you killed but bein' a rat..." Max makes this 'snkt' sound people sometimes make when they're trying to make a point, "now that's noble enough to keep you alive. Don't you feel bad about selling out your friends."

"Hell no man! Are you kiddin' me, not one guy I've ratted on has ever been my friend. I sell out the hardcore motherfuckers that your undercover guys are too fuckin' pussy to deal wit. I HELP my friends bein' a FBI informant."

"Oh yeah?" Max says lighting a cigarette, "Your supervising officer know about that?"

"Hell yeah! I told him myself, he's flexible, he don't care. As long as I'm reelin' in the big guys."

"Yeah well, keep it up, you're even startin' to talk like a cop." Max starts to get up from his chair.

"Heh." the guy puts his hand up, and Max sits back down, "I've been helpin' out Trent, I informed Tony about the capture of 8-ball. I informed El Burro about the wrestling ring that was brought forth against his will, I informed Tony about the hidden money in the Triads hideout, and I informed the police about the shooting."

"Who - are - you?"

"My names Carlos."

"That must be an original name where you come from."

"Yeah my mom gave it to me."

"Really? Didn't picture that." Max says blowing smoke from his nose.

"Hey man Mexicans, we are smart homes. See You can't find one guy my age with the name Carlos where I come from, 'cuz my people... we're smart enough to know when a name is being overused. Eh? Just like your 'original' name homes."

"So what do you want Carlos?"  
"The bigfish," he points to the television screen. "forget about Tony's gang man, focus on the bigger picture..."

"...Liberty City Survivor."  
"That's right."

"Why are you playing both sides?"

"Because I like both sides, and one of the guys is a friend of mine. but you know? I like you, and I have a job to do. So if you don't mind, I'd appreciate if you'd pay for my drink so we can talk about how we're gonna' handle this."

Max set a twenty down on the table.

"I think you'll be satisfied were this road will take you amigo."


	30. 19: The Crew

The Crew:

AGOSTINO & SAL

The light morning rain dances outside the window of Tony's Shoreside Vale home. Agostino gets out of his bed and opening it, leans out the window. The clouds seem painted impressionist style of black and gray, not a single shred of blue in sight. The light falling rain, makes the viewing more ominous, like the world fell into darkness and Liberty was the center for the apocolypse.

'God doesn't it ever stop raining,' he thinks to himself his arm outstretched.

The rain reminded him of a job he had done in a place called Rain City, he did his first big job there, with his cousins, and the experience was almost enough so that the two brothers were prepared for Liberty City.

Agostino walks down the hallway towards the bathroom, he looks into Trent's room. He jumps for a second, he had thought at first that Trent was in the bed with 8-ball. After closer inspection he realized that 8-ball was in Trent's room, and Trent himself was nowhere to be found.

He continues down the hallway, the smooth sleek hardwood floor creeking beneath him. A hand emerges in front of Agostino. Sal is behind him, he reaches around Agostino with his left hand and pushes him against the wall, not violently or roughly but he is being suggestively intimidating.

Agostino looks Sal up and down, he's still completely dressed in his now wrinkled black suit, his hair ruffled, what really stood out was his pair of brand new sunglasses, the only thing he was wearing currently that was not completely disheveled.

"What do want?"

"You're startin' to freak me out with this whole thing about Sam."

"What're you talkin' about?"

Sal pushes him again, harder against the wall with his left hand. His right hand is still at his side. "You KNOW what I'm talkin about man!" Sal says barely keeping his voice at a whisper, "You're acting like some kind of Romeo."  
"With Sam? No WAY she's a kid man!"

"News flash Mr.Nico in Romeo and Juliet, Juliet is fourteen years old."

"What the hell does that have to do with anything? I told you I ain't tryin' to pull shit!"

"YES you ARE man! Goddamn it's creepy!"

"Listen man, I don't give a flyin' fuck what your opinion is on this particular matter, now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go take a piss."

Sal doesn't let him leave, he pushes him against the wall again.

"-You know you're really starting to annoy the shit out of me with this pushing thing!"

"If I see anything else that I think is suggestive or disturbing, I'll shoot you myself." Sal says finally removing his hand from Agostino.

"Thanks officer." Agostino says sarcastically walking towards the bathroom.

FIDELIO:

Fidelio walks into the living room, adjusting his tie. He spots Trent asleep on the couch. Fidelio was an insomniac, and he is envious of Trent's coma-like sleep. He grabs his keys from off of a little dresser in the living room and heads out the door.

His phone rings as he's walking towards his Mafia Sentinal, he presses the button putting the phone to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Who is this?"

"Who the fuck is this." Fidelio says opening up his car door.

"El Burro. Who is this?"

"Fidelio Gerodi."

"Fidelio, I've called to warn you and Tony of a very disrupting develepoment."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Fidelio puts his hand on the keys in the ignition but he doesn't turn them, he keeps his hand there waiting for a reply.

"Marvin has done his job, but the cop he told was a rat and somehow overnight our friends, the Red Jacks got wind of the situation.

"The Red Jacks? What have they got to do with anything?"

"Good luck Fidelio."

The phone clicks, and the dial-tone rises up, El Burro was gone. Fidelio throws the cell on the floor of the car, he stares at it for a second thinking about what the phone call could mean. Then he ignores it, he turns the key in the ignition puts his foot on the gas.

Before he can even press down on the peddle a loud crash comes from his left side. Tiny shards of broken glass shower him. He spits warm, blood covered peices of glass on the dashboard. Fidelio looks up just in time to see two hands reach in from outside and grab him.

The hands violently tug him from inside the car dropping him onto the ground. He catches a glimpse of a Red Jack standing over him with a baseball bat. Fidelio defensively raises his hands and the bat crashes down on his forearms. Fidelio shifts around screaming.

"AHHH! Aahh! FUCK!"

"You think you're smart BITCH! FUCK YOU!" the man's foot jolts forward slamming hard into Fidelio's abdomen.

"What the......fuck do you...want?"

"Shut the fuck up!" The Red Jack brings the baseball bat down again on Fidelio's ribs. The sound of the bat was much quieter than the pain felt from impact. Fidelio couldn't believe how much it hurt. His ribs felt like they were burning, and he hadn't the energy to get the rest of the sharp tacs of glass from his mouth.

"Attack me like a fuckin' pussy? You want to start a war asshole?"

"You're starting this war, you blame the Red Jacks for your shit? --"

"I'm gonna' kill you motherfucker!" Fidelio says, wanting to skip through the gangster's bullshit.

"What!? Motherfucker I'm gonna kill yo--"

The Red Jack jerks backwards, bullets piercing his upper body, bloody fragments spreading out across the parking lot. The Red Jack lays on the concrete in a pool of his own blood, five bullets in his chest and stomach. He's alive but barely, clinging to life and consciousness.

"Told you..." Fidelio says. He stumbles getting to his feet. Leaning on the Sentinal, he spits glass onto the Red Jacks face, "...fucker."

"What the hell is going on!?" Tony comes out of the house, holding his gun.

"Fuckin' Red Jacks man... You had the idea to set 'em up and now they know about it. Marvin musta' told the wrong guy.... This fuckin' pussy attacked me in my car!"

TRENT 8-BALL FIDO & SAM:

Trent and 8-ball sit in a Mafia Sentinal, Chatterbox plays from the speakers. Lazlow is having a very funny conversation about docor patient relationships in therapy. Sam finds the radio show to be unusual but hilarious. She sits in the back giggling at almost every word spoken.

Trent decides that the conversation on the air is getting a little too discriptive and turns it off, wanting to talk anyway.

"Sorry Sam, I want to talk to 8-ball for a little while."

"It's okay." She says pulling out a book with the title, 'The book of lists for teens.'

"So what'd you think of what happened to Fidelio?" Trent says turning to 8-ball.

"Don't know what to think. All I know is now we gotta' watch our asses even more. The best part is now if you see red, you can be ready."

"Hey that's right huh? I never noticed that. The Diablos wear red bandannas, and the Red Jacks want revenge. - Hey have you ever met D-Ice?"

"No, but I know what he looks like. He never wears his gang colors, some people say it's because he thinks he's above the rest of them."

"What're you readin' Sam."

"This book I bought before I left, it's just a book of lists."

"A book of lists?" 8-ball says amused, "How the heck could that be interesting?"

"Want an example?"

"Sure."  
"Nothing in the english language ryhmes with purple, silver, month, or orange."

"Is it true?"

"Yep."

"What else do they have in there?" 8-ball says gaining interest.

"They're basically just a bunch of useless facts, some of them teach you stuff that's useful, but most of them are just fun. Like did you know the guy who did the voice for Bugs Bunny was allergic to carrots?"  
"Oh man that is weird!"

"But this one is my favorite, the Canadian two dollar bill has a picture of the American flag hanging over the Parlement Building."

'HHHHHNNNNNK', the horn blows loudly, "Watch it asshole!" Trent screams, a man had jumped in front of their car. He was aiming a gun, not at them, but they could see that he was pointing to their right. Screaming, the man was dressed in Yardie's style gang colors. They watch the Yardie get blown to pieces in front of their car.

Four Red Jacks get in front of their Sentinal. Trent is worried, but only about Sam, Fido was in his Banshee one car back. The Red Jacks examine the dead body of the Yardie, then they look searching the area. One Red Jack lays his eyes on Trent, sitting in the Sentinal.

"8-ball?" Trent says tensely, "This doesn't look good."

"Luck is on our side."

Trent could only pray that 8-ball was right. The Red Jack taps his partner on the arm and points cautiously to Trent, it was cautious, but very noticable.

Trent hits the gas, and the car rips forward, all of the Jacks make it out of the way except one. The man is pulled partly under the car and it slams into a brick wall. He's still alive his arms just barely above the car, the Jack starts firing bullets at Trent and 8-ball through the windshield. Both of them duck and make it out of the car.

Trent grabs his gun and swings open the back of the Sentinal and grabs Samantha by her shirt pulling her out. Bullets stack up on the seat where she had just been sitting. Trent steps over to the dying Red Jack, the man tries to move his arm enough to fire at Trent but he can't. Trent holds his gun up and fires continuously at the Jack's head and arms. The bullet's shells clanging on the ground signifying the end of the man's life.

8-ball watches a group of Red Jacks head in their dirction. He fires openly, in public, the sounds of screaming and barking dogs. The Jacks duck for a while and Trent grabs Samantha. 8-ball covers Fido as he heads towards them. Every step Fido takes is another bullet in the Red Jacks direction.

"This street is really fuckin' busy! The police'll be here soon!"  
"I know," Trent says reloading his gun.

Fido nods his head. Trent looks at him, then Sam. "Fido take Samantha somewhere safe! Me and 8-ball will distract them."  
Sam doesn't much like the idea of going with Fido, he seemed a little unfeeling at times, but after seeing the way that Agostino and Sal acted, she had trouble believing that her dad would put her with anyone who might be a dangerous person to her.

Fido literally lifts Sam up off of the ground and starts running. 8-ball and Trent's distraction? Both of them start firing bullets at the Red Jacks emptying entire clips, Until Sam was out of their view.

Trent turns to 8-ball, "Every man for himself. Agreed?"

"Cool." 8-ball says cocking his gun.

Trent just barely notices an 8-ball that is seemingly painted on 8-ball's silver fourty five, on the side next to the hammer. He laughs to himself as he begins to run forward, 8-ball was so superstitous that is sometimes got to Trent how ridiculous those things were.

Trent stumbles as a group of bikers approach, bikers as in; people on bicycles. He slams into one of them awkwardly knocking the man over. The biker simply gets up cursing, he tosses his bike, but not at Trent. The Jacks get closer to Trent and 8-ball, and they start firing. Two bikers get in the Red Jacks line of fire and are indiscriminately gunned down in the street. "Oh my god someone call an Ambulance!" A man screams in the background.

'What the hell is all this shit for?' 8-ball asks himself, he realizes that it probably isn't the time and that he can bitch and moan about it later. But as he continues, he can't get it out of his mind, somehow it sticks with him, in the back of his mind.

They pass through a rounded archway and Trent enters the building holding the door open for 8-ball who slides in frantically, his feet slipping on the tile floor. Trent closes the double doors and the two of them realize they are both still holding pistols.

"What the hell is this place?" 8-ball whispers to Trent, eyeing his right side.

The two men stand facing each other, the door is to Trent's right and 8-ball's left.

Trent looks to his left, there is a huge hallway filled with lockers that follow the direction of his left shoulder. Ahead of him, and behind 8-ball, is another hallway with lockers on both sides. The lockers following Trent's shoulder only have them on the left side. On the right side are some pillars and a small resting room complete with a couch carpet and T.V.

"Well 8-ball, It seems we have stumbled upon the LCC." LCC, Liberty City College. Trent couldn't believe that they were standing in Liberty City College. Several students sit on the couch, watching T.V. most of them have their attention focused on the two men holding guns.

8-ball looks at one of the kids, a red haired girl, "Don't worry," he says holding his gun up, but not pointing, "we ain't gonna hurt ya'." This seems to mildly calm the students down.

Trent's voice emminates from a distant room, "8-ball, can you help me in here?"

A desk comes flying through a doorway and slamming into the lockers, Trent pushes a huge wooden table through the door knocking it on it's side. The Jacks burst through the door and 8-ball has no choice he hides behind a pillar. Trent ducks behind the table. Bullets fire repeatedly at 8-ball, peices of concrete shredding and drifting to the floor below him. Most of the students get up and run down the only safe hallway, some are too scared to move. Trent stands up and fires, 'BAM!BAM!BAM!' a Jack's dead body slams into the double doors, spilling blood across them. Trent ducks as fast as he can.

Bullets fire through the table smoking holes lay beside Trent, 'This isn't going to fuckin' work!', he thinks frustrated.

8-ball sees his chance and takes his shot, he sends one of the Red Jacks into the next world, riddled with bullet holes courtesy of the lucky 8-ball. He manages to count the amount of Red Jacks left in the building at the entrance: two.

Without either one of the two of them lifting a finger gunshots spread out and the two Red Jacks remaining slump to the floor, blood covered carcasses. Fido had been in the Resting room the whole time, he'd taken Samantha there because he thought it would be safe. Trent and 8-ball never got a good look at either him or Sam through all the gawking college students. Now Fido was in clear view holding two gunpowder covered Uzis, shellcasings spread across the carpet. Samantha sits on the carpet next to one of the women, "Hi." she says rather happily. Fido motions with his hand, and a lot of the rest of the college kids get up and leave.

"Fido! That was fuckin' amazing man!"  
"Always my savior!" 8-ball says patting Fido on the back.

Fido puts a hand on Samantha's shoulder and kind of 'places her' next to her dad.

Samantha looks up at Trent, "Dad, can I go here when I get out of High School? I have a feeling I would never be bored again." She says jokingly. Trent just pats her on the head as they leave the building, going to Tony's.


	31. 19: Max

MAX:

Max Payne wakes up in his Jersey home yawning, his hand falls on a soft lump next to him on the bed. He softly wraps his arm around his wife placing his face in her blonde hair. He kisses her gently on the neck, she slowly turns around to face him. He smiles at her, and she wakes up, smiling back at him.

He jumps out of his bed slamming into the wall behind him, knocking an empty picture frame to the ground, sending it crashing against the floor. Suddenly he wasn't in his home, he was in a dilapidated house in the Red Light District of Liberty City. He had seen the face of his dead wife, it scared him so much, because it took him much longer than it usually did to remember that his wife couldn't be there. The woman he had seen was dead.

Max presses his index finger and thumb into both eyes trying to get a grip on himself. Now he sees the woman more clearly. She has brown hair, she's attractive but she doesn't look anything like his wife. His head moves around like he's looking for something, he's not he's thinking. He's thinking 'How did I wake up in my apartment with a strange woman?'

"...Max? What's wrong with you?"

He gets a flash of memory:  
"Give me another drink!" Max screams to the bartendar who happily gives him one, he watches this event unfold similarly more times than he can count.

The next memory is of the attractive woman in a very seductive pose. He gets a quick flash of the woman throwing her head back. Then the room appears normal again zipping back into reality.

"What the fuck is going on?" Max asks himself.

The woman appears very worried about him, "Are you okay Max?"

"I don't remember you..." he says very matter-of-factly, "I was drunk." he was trying very hard not to sound rude, instead it came out exactly the oppisite of how he intended.

She picks up her shoes and pants off the floor, and gives him the finger slamming the door behind her.

"Goddamn!" he says, his head swimming, he stumbles into the bathroom. He looks into the mirror, for some reason it doesn't reflect his whole face, he only sees faded parts, like he's looking through a window instead of a mirror.

Slightly uneasy he makes his way downstairs, walking past the scratched and graffitied lobby he approaches a brand new shiny blue Stinger, his rental car. He gets inside turning the key in his ignition, as he does he glares out the right-side window of his car, watching droplets disfigure his view of the outside world.

TAPTAPTAP Max nearly jumps through the roof. He looks outside as the dark figure moves it's hand away from the windshield glaring into the car. Max rolls down his window, rain pours in from the outside. Max keeps his eyes fixed on a hispanic man standing in the rain outside his car.

"Who are you and what the fuck do you want?" Max says hung-over.

"Carlos? Remember, I talked to you yesterday?

"Oh right, right yeah. Sorry about that man, I just woke up and already my day's been crazy."

"Hey no big deal man, you drink like an Irish motherfucker man. I never seen anyone drink like that before!"

"Yeah, it was bad judgment brought on by alcohol... You should probably get in the car."

Carlos runs to the passenger side opening up the door he slides smoothly inside, like it's his ride.

"I thought you'd never ask." Carlos rubs his hands together, it's so cold he can see his own breath. "Woo man, this is a nice car. I'd love to get me one of these. Okay Max, you know where we're goin' now?"

Theres a slight pause, "...No."

"We're goin' to go see this guy named Roy. Connected motherfucker, weirdest criminal you ever met in your life."

"Why's that."

"He was tellin' me about this prison break that he made one time... They used to walk all the prisoners through this little hallway, the prison itself was attached to a firedepartment. Okay?

"Okay..."

"Yeah well, one day he saw the door that lead to the fire department, and somethin' just popped into his head and he said 'wonder if it's unlocked.' Mothefucker walks right out the door."

"What?"

"I'm serious homes."

"That was his great escape? He walked out the door?"

"It worked didn't it? Besides he was the only person smart enough to try it."

"So why are we going to see him?"

"See what he knows about Liberty City Survivor. Trust me if you are trying to stop any kind of crime ring, and you don't talk to Roy, you're not gonna' make it."

"Yeah, okay." Max says stepping on the gas.

Murder and human weaknesses:

They arrive at Roy's home in Staunton Island. The home is white with blue trimming, it hardly looks like the place for any kind of criminal, idiot or mastermind. The tiny house looks like it could belong to an old woman, even the flowers are nicely planted. It doesn't even look like it would exist in Liberty City.

"You've got to be kidding me."  
"I kid you not my friend." Carlos says pulling his gun out.

"On the way down here you said that Roy wasn't dangerous."

"Uh-huh."

"So why the hell are you taking out your gun?"

"Oh. It's to scare him... I also forgot to tell you about Roy's best friend Jeff."  
"What about him?"

"He's a psychotic motherfucker with a fetish for knives."

"Yeah it kinda' would have been good to prepare me for that." Max takes out his Barrettas, he examines them, then he discards them both settting them on the dashboard. He reaches around the seat of the car yanking on something.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to get my...." he yanks hard, "goddamn.... shotgu --"

'BLAM!' The shotgun goes off, tearing a clump of spiked holes through Max's new car. Afterwards the only sound is the flapping of terrified pigeons, Max and Carlos breathe a sigh of relief.

Then Carlos tries to hide a smile, "Oh shit! You fucked up your car dog."

Carlos steps out of the car and onto the sidewalk, Max follows closely behind, gripping the shotgun in both hands. Spontaneously a man comes out the door of the house. He has long hair and glasses, he looks like a hippie, he's even dressed like one. Both Carlos and Max have no trouble noticing an unusually huge amount of blood spread across the hippie's clothes.

They raise their guns, "DON'T MOVE!" the two of them continue to scream at the hippie, who raises his hands in defense.

"STOP! STOP! DON'T SHOOT! STOP SHOOTING! I'M GIVING MYSELF UP!" After some screaming Max and Carlos decide to stop yelling.

"Don't shoot anymore! I'm not a part of this! I don't want to get hurt..."

"Who's this guy?" Max asks Carlos.

"Roy."

"- Holy shit! Carlos. When I heard the shot I thought it was the cops. You got to help man, Jeff's gone fuckin' crazy!"

Max takes the lead he opens up the white screen-door to the house, then he slowly turns the golden doorknob. He swings the door open, inside is a man, in his very early twenties, wearing a black snow-cap dressed like a skateboard punk. The man flips out when he sees Max.

"I didn't kill her! I DIDN'T kill her! I found the bitch like this. I swear to god THE BITCH WAS ALREADY DEAD! I DIDN'T KILL HER!" He continues to repeat the last sentence, seemingly to fool himself and not Max.

Max's eyes drift towards the left side of the room, on the couch is the torn open body of a young woman, blood covers almost every inch of her and the couch is dripping with it, soaked from top to bottom. It is very contrast to the white cotton covering.

Max pumps a shell into the shotgun.

"You're NOT pinning this shit on ME!" The man bursts forward swinging his knife it comes at Max in slow-motion streaking blood through the sky, it floats like a cloud over Max's head as he ducks avoiding the blade. Max feels uncharged and everything becomes normal, his right foot comes forward slamming into Jeff's stomach. It is quickly followed by a violent shotgun blasts that rips a gaping hole through Jeff's body, he slams into the wall behind him and blood seems to spray from the wall as he slams into it. Painting an explosion-like affect on the white behind him. His blood drips onto the smooth hardwood floor towards the hemp carpet.

The man's death is followed by a long silence, which is broken when Max turns his head.

"Carlos?"

"Huh?" Carlos seems a little freaked-out.

"You ever seen anything like this?"  
Carlos shakes his head, then turns toward Roy. "Roy? What the fuck happened here?"

"I don't know." he says almost on the verge of tears. "She was his girlfriend! HE WAS FUCKIN' CRAZY!"

Carlos looks at the bodies, then pushes Roy out the door, Max follows.

"Roy, we need to know some shit. About this, - would be good - but about something else especially."

"Goddamn..." Max says, reflecting on one of the weirdest and darkest days of his life.


	32. 20: The Crew

AGOSTINO & SAL:

Agostino and Sal walk fearlessly through Triad territory, It's still reletively close to Tony's boys so the two of them feel safe. Agostino lights a cigarette, chewing on his gum.

"You're going to get killed doin' that shit." Sal says to his brother.  
"So sue me... Where're we goin' now?"

"Uhh... Tony said somethin' about takin' somebody out... a major Red Jack's leader."

"Oh yeah?" he says releasing a plume of smoke, "So why're we walking?"

"Cuz' he lives here." They stop at one of many very dirty and disheveled brick apartment buildings. Sal takes out his guns, two Colt Pythons.

"Really? What's his name?" Agostino says, he crushes his cigarette beneath his foot and pulls out a Desert Eagle.

"Who cares?"

"I asked didn't I?"

"Trory Williams. He sets up jobs for D-Ice's men, Ice himself is creative enough to come up with better ones, but his business has been doin' so well lately that he just lets Trory come up with them."

"What does that got to do with The Family?"

"We got to show em' who's boss. They don't fuck with the Mafia." Sal says loading his gun.

"What floor does he live on."

"This one."

They open up the door and step inside the building, the inside is the opposite of the outside, the carpet is clean, a coffee table with magazines, an untouched light fixture, even the walls are bare from graffiti.

They step past the counter. When they finally get to Trory's room, no one is there, in fact it looks like no one's been there in days. They walk back out into the lobby.

"What a waste of our fuckin' time." Agostino says putting his gun away.

"Maybe not..." Sal says pointing to the door, their target; Trory walks through the door. His eyes widen as he spots the two Mobsters in his apartment building. Sal raises his gun to fire but is interupted by the exploding wall behind him. The man at the counter is firing rounds at Sal and Agostino, the two of them bolt into the hallway, and kick down a door. When they close the door, it looks fine from outside, Sal leans against it keeping it from swinging open.

"What do you wanna' do?" Agostino asks his brother.

"Ssshhh" Sal peeks through the door's viewing hole, the man at the counter is checking all the rooms quickly, trying to figure out which one they're in, he gets to the one across from them.

"Bingo..." Sal whispers, he pulls the trigger six times on his Python unloading the entire gun in the man's back. The two of them slam through the door past the bloody corpse. They stop running when they get in the street in front of the building.

"Fuck! We lost the son of a bitch - You know how pissed Tony'll be if he finds out we lost'm."

They turn around around and spot a light blue Esperanto a couple yards away moving at a speeding pace, the car slams into Sal causing him to crash across the hood, the windshield cracks and Sal rolls across the entire car landing on the concrete behind it.

Agostino fires at the moving car hitting nothing but the trunk. Sal, bloody and injured, raises his gun and fires a single shot at the car, that extremely far off in the distance - stops.

Agostino runs over to his brother, "Oh my god! Are you okay."

"I hit'm." Sal says smiling.

"What?" Agostino looks behind him at the distant Esperanto, it seems much too far away for that to be true, "That's not fucking possible."

"Hey man I'm fine... Just get me out of the fuckin' road and you can see for yourself."

Agostino grabs his brother's arms and drags him from the street onto the sidewalk, then he jogs over to the Esperanto, he gets close enough to see the inside of the car, it's covered in blood, when he looks at Trory's head he can see a bullet hole that landed directly in the middle of the back of his skull.

When Agostino gets half-way between the car and his brother he screams, "THAT'S THE BEST FUCKIN' SHOT I'VE EVER SEEN MAN!" Immediately after finishing his sentence a blue Banshee smashes into the Esperanto. Two men A mobster and a man wearing a leather Jacket, exit the vehicle and run towards the water.

Agostino figures the two men are probably Fidelio and Fido. A cop car slides across the wet grass and slams into the Banshee. Three more cop cars appear and a raging gunfight begins. Agostino realizes something more's going on when he spots a Rumpo XL Join in on the chaos. Six Red Jacks jump into the action.

Agostino runs to his brother. Sal is lying on the ground with several dead Triads close by.

"What the fuck happened?"

"They were comin' after me man! Fuckin' chicken shits! I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't showed up now, I just ran out of goddamn bullets."

Agostino lifts his brother up off the ground, "Can you walk?"

"Of course I can fuckin' walk I ain't crippled!"

Agostino lets go of his brother. Sal watches the world fade into darkness, his head numb. He's not unconscious, but he's dizzy and disoriented, he falls backwards, his head slamming onto the brick wall behind him as he slides to the ground.

"Okay... Maybe I can't walk." he says adjusting his sunglasses.

"Fuck... You stay here."

"I'm gonna' fuckin' die if you leave me here man! Goddamn are you stupid or somethin!?"

"Well I'm tryin' to figure this fuckin' shit out MAN!"

A Taxi drives up next to the two of them and Agostino runs for it, yanking on the door handle.

"Get out of the fuckin' Taxi!" He screams at the driver.

The Taxi driver screams wildly like a complete idiot, he acts crazy and pulls Agostino's hair.

"Aaahh! Motherfucker!" Agostino's gun goes off sending a bullet through the Cab driver's shoulder. He shoots him in the same place a second time, and the man starts crying like a little girl.

"Shut the fuck up!" Agostino punches the cab driver in the face and grabs him by the collar with one hand slamming him to the ground, dragging him away from the Taxi.

"You stay there - son of a bitch." he says pointing his gun at the man.

Still holding his gun he drags his brother towards the passanger side of the car, the taxi driver gets up heading for the car. Without letting go of his brother Agostino fires three shots at the cab driver who finally withdraws.

Agostino drops his brother in the taxi and sits in the bloody seat next to him. He takes out another Desert Eagle and hands it to Sal. "Here. Trust me, in this situation you'll need it."

FIDO & FIDELIO:

Fidelio and Fido walk into Liberty City Bank unmasked, and holding shotguns. Fido has a Spaz 12, while Fidelio carries a sawed-off. Fido walks in and 'BOOM!' fires a hole through the security guard. Blood spews across the brown flowered wallpaper.

They'd made the impression they'd wanted. Fidelio steps up to the counter "Hi, I'd like to make a withdrawl."

The woman at the counter reaches her hand under the desk, 'Stupid bitch!' Fidelio thinks to himself, he slams the front of the barrel onto the womans mouth. It cracks up against her teeth and cuts her gums.

Blood drips across the counter as he drags her over the oak crashing her onto the tan carpet. Her mouth bleeds, and she cries painfully.

"You think I'm fuckin' around here? You or anyone touches that goddamn button and you get a bullet! Stop being such a fuckin' baby! You wanna' keep cryin' bitch? You did that to yourself."

A man runs for the door and Fido blasts him in the back of the right leg. The man falls onto the sidewalk, barely outside the bank. Fido runs over and drags him by his foot placing him in the middle of the room. Fido looks at the other viewing patrons, and slams his sneaker into the man's wound.

Fidelio comes out of nowhere holding bags of money. "Come on Fido, let's get the fuck out of here!"

A man behind a counter presses a button and an alarm goes off. Fido looses his temper and fires holes through the oak. The man falls screaming, Fido looks through the holes in the counter. He's slouched in the fetal position holding his crotch. Blood everywhere. The man lets out peircing violent screams.

Fido and Fidelio run for the glass door blasting holes through them running for Fido's blue Banshee.

The two of them jump inside and Fido takes the wheel, Fidelio spots a Rumpo XL through the rearview mirror. The Rumpo XL was the Red Jack's vehicle of choice, white with flames painted on.

Fido steps on the gas and the two of them take off, the cops show up not far behind chasing them down the street. Fidelio leans out of the car and fires his shotgun at one of the police cars, he hits the hood. It's a terribly weak shot, the sawed off won't do.

Fidelio reaches over and grabs Fido's Spaz 12 and leans out of the car again blasting shells at the cop car. It catches fire and stops in the middle of the steet, another police vehicle slams into the back of it. The first car errupts, and sets the second one on fire.

They skid around the corner Fidelio drops the shotgun and snatches two forty-fives from his coat, he stands with his knees on the seat facing the police behind them. He pumps one of the police officers full of lead, the car clips another police car then it swerves into the grass approaching a big concrete structure that is shaped almost like a ramp, the car flies up it sloppily, it flips slamming into the ground crushing the roof. The second police officer; the one that wasn't driving, is crushed by his own cruiser.

Fido fires at the far off Rumpo with his eyes off the road. He turns back and sees a light blue Esperanto he doesn't even have time to step on the breaks before they slam into it, the ripping metal roaring loudly. The crashing sound was deafening and Fidelio grips his teeth even through all the fear.

Their air bags had appherently saved them, neither of them even have minor injuries. The bags quickly deflate and Fidelio tugs on Fido's Jacket.

"Come on! We got to get the fuck out of here."

Fido runs around the car grabbing the money.

"Come on! Come on!"

The train flies above their heads as Fidelio runs for the water, Fido is right behind him but stops the second they get to the water.

"Jump in!" Fidelio screams. "Come on get in the fuckin' water!"

Fido raises his eyebrows, eyes wide, he shakes his head. Fido doesn't seem as much afraid, as much as he seems to think Fidelio is stupid. Fidelio grabs Fido's chest with his left hand, and the collar in back of his neck with his right, trying to push him into the water. Fido socks Fidelio in the chest knocking him onto the ground.

"You can't fuckin' swim!?" Fidelio asks him annoyed and amazed at the same time.

Fido shakes his head.

"FUCK! COME ON MOTHERFUCKER'S!" Fidelio blasts the hell out of the police cars, one of them tearing towards them takes a bullet through the tire. The car tilts and the wheel just barely misses Fido's head as the bumper meets the concrete, it flips wildly soaring into the water.

"That was the craziest fuckin' thing I've ever seen!"  
Fido takes his sawed off shotgun and blasts a police officer to bits. His partner makes a futile attempt to call for backup, which is - unbeknownst to him - not going to arrive.

A blast of pellets crashes into the police cruiser's door killing the police officer that was calling for help. A Taxi pulls up in the middle of the action. Desert Eagles come out of the windows and blast the hell out of the remaining police officers recreating the color of the grass from green to red.

The six Red Jacks had been dealing more with the cops as well, now that that factor was eliminated they head for the Mobsters, and vise versa.

One of the Red Jack's runs towards Fido and Fidelio firing his Uzi at them. They are too spooked to do anything about it. BLAM! A bloody hole bursts like a pimple from the Jack's chest. He looks at the wound, then raises his Uzi again trying to take someone with him. BLAM!BLAM!BLAM! He falls and Sal stands behind him holding a smoking Desert eagle in his right hand, and his stomach with his left. He falls softly onto the grass. By the open Taxi door.

Agostino slides over the hood of the car. As the driver of the Rumpo is exiting Agostino blows him to bits. He falls back into the van next to the seat, he slides back down to the ground. Agostino runs for the van.

A Red Jack runs towards the Taxi grabbing Sal by his tie dragging him away from the gunfight.

"Come on mothafucka' you're comin' with me!"

Sal reaches above his head pointing the Desert Eagle at the man's face, he takes it out of Sal's hand effortlessly.

"Thank's don't mind if I do!" He takes the huge gun and cracks it up against Sal's head.

"...No..." Sal manages to groan.

The combined sound of bullets slipping through flesh and the violent metal crash of shotgun pellets hitting metal echoe in Sal's head. A shotgun blast comes towards the Red Jack that had been taking Sal away, it spreads from the top of his chest to the bottom of his stomach and rips two holes in the Taxi next to him. Blood soars from the Jack's wounds as his legs fly up into the air. He lands, lifeless, just above Sal's head.

Sal groggily looks above him at the body, then at his feet. Fido Approaches holding his shotgun, he pumps a shell out of the gun. Smiles at his handy-work then walks away.

Fidelio grabs Agostino and drags him towards the Rumpo as the gunfighting continues in the streets.

Sal is loaded into the van, he tries to sit up. A flurry of bullets tears through van, above his head. He decides against sitting up, and instead slowches down lower. Fido gets in holding his shotgun, Fidelio follows. Closing one door behind him The other one he leaves open. Fido slams his fist up against the wall and the van starts moving.

Sal watches the two men get their shotguns ready, he decides to do as they do. He aims his Desert Eagle, preparing, focused.

The van rattles away from the scene, Red Jacks fall but it's almost impossible to tell which ones are dying. One of the Red Jacks head snaps back blood spraying above his face.

Sal lowers his gun as he realizes that he's gotten another perfect shot off. He smiles pushing up his sunglasses as Fidelio closes the second door.

TRENT & 8-BALL:

Trent and 8-ball's job was a similar job to Agostino and Sal's. Given to them by El Burro, they were to take out a big Columbian SPANK dealer named Augustus Armando.

Trent sits on the top of the roof near Portland Harbor, 8-ball next to him holding binoculars.

"Hey..." 8-ball says to Trent, "I've been in a situation just like this before. Well not just like this, me and my boy Fido were in some serious shit man. I had to plant a bomb on a boat in the harbor. While he sniped Columbians off one by one."

"Yeah... I bet you n' Fido've been through a lot of shit."

"Naw man, Fido's freelance. Frankly I'm surprised the motherfucker still hangs around us. - You know what I'm sayin'?"

"Yeah I guess. Where is he now."

"Doin' a job for Tony, he's bustin' Liberty City Bank with Fidelio."

"Didn't Fido get caught robbin' a bank?"

"Yeah but you know our dog's fearless, he'll do any job more than once - besides, he ain't got some stupid bitch there to shoot him in the face."

"You were right before about that rutheless shit that you said too. Him and Fidelio are the craziest sons of bitches I've ever seen."

"What about Sal man? That motherfucker creeps me out."

"Yeah well, it's his brother that's gettin' on my nerves."

"Agostino? Shit man, if I didn't know any better --"

Rain starts to come down harder than usual, 8-ball covers his head with his jacket, Trent doesn't react to it even though he is wearing a long black overcoat.

"-- If I didn't know any better I'd say that you had it in for that guy."

"Do you get the feeling he wants to date my daughter?" 8-ball starts laughing and Trent angrily cuts him off, "Don't fuckin' laugh. Do you get the feeling he wants to date her."

"That's some scary shit you're talkin' about bro, at least... to me it is. That's just fuckin' disgusting."

"They both act like it, and it's scaring the hell out of me."

The two are met with an awkward silence that lasts four minutes.

"I'm glad we left her with Tony." Trent breaks the silence, but 8-ball continues it by simply shaking his head.

They wait patiently for the arrival of Augustus Armando, he finally arrives three hours later in a Cartel Cruiser. He exits walking towards a large boat, he hands a dockworker a shitload of money and talks to some of his men. Trent takes off his overcoat and rubs off the drops of rain that are blocking his view, then he uses it as a cover, realizing the error of his ways. But he's fine now, the lense is clean and Augustus is right in front of him, all he has to do is be patient and pull the trigger.

"Shoot em' man. - What the fuck are you waitin' for?"

"Shut up. You've never done this before." Trent says to 8-ball.

"And you have?"

"Uh-huh." Trent says squeezing on the trigger. He pulls it and Augustus moves, the bullet hits the boat right next to his face. The Columbians examine the bullet hole, confused. When they realize what's going on all of the Columbians get their guns ready, searching the area. Augustus himself runs into the boat and takes off.

"Fuck! - 8-ball man, I told you not to rush me!"

He picks off one of the Cartel sending a bullet through his head, the impact spatter is tremendous.

"Holy fuckin' shit! Did you see that?" 8-ball says laughing.

"Yeah... I saw it." he says taking out another one. This seems to give away their position, and the Cartels fire at them. The only thing that Trent can think to do is panic. "8-ball they got us man, we're fucked!"

8-ball gets up and runs making it to the steps in time he pulls out two semi-automatic Barrettas and starts firing back at the Columbians, he hits one of them. He never thought he would have, he always considered himself to be a lousy shot, and the Cartels were as fearless as Fido.

He bolts down the stairs clanging with every step. He finds the Mafia Sentinal that they had came in, and jumps inside, he sits impatiently awaiting the arrival of his partner in crime. Bullets blindingly rip through the car 8-ball scrambles out staying low. He fires like a maniac at the Cartel, avoiding any kind of aiming, he just waves his arms in that direction firing his guns. He hits him and runs for the corpse trying to get a hold of a machinegun. The 'corpse' rises, uninjured. A bullet proof vest had protected him.

The Columbian fires rounds at 8-ball who runs around the corner, another Columbian stands right there, he quickly points the gun at the Cartel's head emptying bullets under his chin. He heads for a Triad Fish Van. His guns explodes unloading into the door of the truck killing the Triad inside.

He jumps inside the fish van and takes off towards Tony's place, leaving Trent behind. 'Fuck that was a stupid thing to do.' he says to himself, slamming his fist into the steering wheel.

'What the hell happened to Trent?'


	33. 19: 20: Max & Carlos

MAX & CARLOS:

Max and Carlos ride away from the scene of the two bloody murders commited earlier, the only real witness to the first, sitting in the backseat of the car. A blonde, long haired, robe wearing, hippie named Roy. Roy is blood soaked and is now close to being calm, he adjusts his glasses looking at the two men in the front seats.

"You know, you didn't have to take my Kuruma. I like fast cars."

"You must like layin' in the trunk too, cuz' if we'd taken Max's Stinger that's where you'd be stayin'."

"So are you guys taking me to the cops?" Roy asks them looking at himself.

"No." Max says lighting a cigarette, "We need to talk to you about somethin... but first, It'd be nice to know why _exactly _I just blew that guy away in there."

Roy becomes very uneasy shifting around in his seat, staying quiet, "I don't really wanna' talk about that right now."

"Look," Max says, "I just killed somebody, and though I do know why, I'd like to know MORE about it, you're the only one that was there, so just tell us your story."

"I got a question for you..." Roy says reaching in his pockets, "do you mind if I smoke some weed?"

Max contemplates it, after some serious thought he realizes that the man didn't ask if he could shoot V in the car. "Sure. But you got to tell me what happened."

Roy lights it up moving the flame back and forth across the blunt savoring every minute of it. "What can I say..." he lets out a huge cough, "he was fuckin' crazy, him and Kory both man, those two..." he shutters.

Max turns to Carlos, "Who the fuck is Kory?"

"Kory-Kory-Kory-Kory... never heard of em' before."

"Kory was the name of the guy that Jeff bought all his knives from. You know all that shit in the papers about the 'New Harwood Butcher'?"

"The guy who skins people alive?" Max says momentarily turning around.

"Yeah... - Not guy; _guys_." a very unsettling look passes Roy's face, "Those two freaks were killin' women in Kory's apartment in Shoreside Vale, and I never knew nothin' about it. They were my friends the full three years that this shit was goin' down. Doin' it right under my nose."

"Man..." Carlos says with a slight note of sarcasm, "That's fucked up... let me ask you somethin' buddy. How long could one person not know about this shit? I mean, friends for three years murdering young women. The two of them had an obvious affinity for knives, - they never mentioned anything to you - they never said anything huh? They just killed people behind your back, they did it with each other - but not with you 'No! That would be loco!'! You didn't even come out of the house 'til we fired a shot. - Now why don't you just stop fucking around, and tell us? How many have you gone through? Ten? Twenty, maybe?

"I told you, they never told me what they were doing!" he says screaming, "The names of the women in the paper were all people they didn't know... why would I suspect them? They were my fucking friends! Then he just fucking flipped out and killed his girlfriend right in front of me. I guess he couldn't resist the urge or something, scared me half to fucking death man... I didn't know what to do." Roy's eyes are swelled with tears and his face red, he's not bauling but he's obviously upset.

"Pretend I believe you." Max says pulling the car to a stop, "Where does Kory live?"  
"I-I-I-I-I don't know... I mean, I used to know but... now..."

"This is bullshit. Roy... if your friend's a murderer, he ain't your friend. Now I'm gonna' finish up my day; regular style. But tommorrow we're going over to the motherfucker's house." Carlos says getting out of the car.

Hunt For The New Harwood Butcher:

The next day the three men drive down Shoreside Vale looking for Kory 'The New Harwood Butcher's' apartment. Carlos is driving this time, and Max is in the passenger seat. Roy sits in the back of his own car, with a brand new robe on.

Max turns to Carlos, "After this you want to get somethin' to eat?"

"Yeah, I'm starving... Hey, You ever notice somethin' funny about restaurants?"

"What?"

"Every restaurant that's name is the 'product' plus the word 'time' never does well."

"What are you talking about?"

"Ok well check this out," Carlos says smiling, "What's your favorite pizza place?"

"Pizza Hut. Yours?"

"Well Stacked. --You ever been to Pizza Time?"

"Yeah."  
"Sucked didn't it?"

"It didn't suck it blew but who can tell the difference."

"That's the thing man, you walk into a Pizza Time and everything looks like shit, roaches on the fuckin' floor, the food is so greasy that orange shit leaks onto your hand, the employees probably don't even wash their fuckin' hands."

"I know what you're talking about now. So like if I walked into Taco Time it'd be ten times worse then walking into Taco Bell right?"

"Exactly! When's the last time you saw an add on T.V. for Taco Bell. -"

"Yesterday."

"Taco Time. -"

"...Maybe five years ago."

" See that's what I'm talkin about... Now I've never even heard of Burger Time, but I gaurantee that if it existed the shit wouldn't succeed in mass marketing."

"You are a very strange man. You know that Carlos?"

"But I'm right aren't I? I mean some gringo sitting at his chair in and office somewhere says to himself we'll call it Pizza Time, because people can say 'What time is it? Pizza Time!' It's fuckin' career suicide man."

"You ever been in marketing Carlos?"

"Don't even start with that shit, 'cuz if I was; they'd be havin' condoms and prostitutes at Taco Bell, FREE WITH EVERY TACO!"

Max can't help it, he bursts out laughing. Roy behind them completely unflinching.

"Goddamn, aren't you going to lighten up Roy?" Carlos asks him, he doesn't answer his question. "This is his apartment building right here."

"Okay... let's go."

The three of them get out of the car moving towards the large apartment complex with big metal double doors that looks like the entrance to an elevator and not really a whole building.

"Max." Roy runs up shaking Max's hand as he walks through the doors, "I'm sorry I had to do this to you man. But..."

"What?"

'click' The metal ring wraps around Max's hand, the other one smoothly attached to the handle of the apartment building. Roy runs in the other direction. "I'm sorry Max, but I don't wanna' fuckin' die. - Survival of the fittest."

Carlos approaches Max as Roy gets into the Kuruma. "What the fuck's going on."

"Goddamn it! Roy's getting away!"

The Kuruma starts up and all of a sudden a weird looking man dressed in all leather, with jet-black spiked hair comes running out of the building. The man is extremely pale, he runs up to Roy's Kuruma holding a gun in his left hand.

"Get out of the car motherfucker!"

'BLAM!' A bullet hole explode in front of him bashing the side of the car. He turns around to see Payne and Carlos holding guns at him. He pauses...

"Wait a fuckin' minute! You're the motherfucker that killed my best friend!" he points his gun at Max's face.

'BLAM!' another shot goes off, hitting the leather-clad goth in the shoulder. Blood sprays across his face, but is quickly dissolved by falling rain.

He fires seven shots, then gets into a blue van and drives away.

"Who the fuck was that?"

"My guess is that that was Kory."

"He didn't seem to happy about us bein' here did he?" Max asks.

"He sure didn't."

"How do you think he knew about Jeff? Roy told em'?"

"It's possible, but Roy ain't fuckin' stupid either I doubt he'd try to get us killed. Police might have questioned him, gave him a discription, maybe he was there I don't know. But somethin' happened and he's fuckin' pissed off."

"We killed his fellow murderer."

"What the fuck're we gonna' do now."

"Well first, you've got to get me out of this." He says yanking on the handcuffs, "And second, we ain't stayin' here, his ass isn't comin' back we need some kind of new lead or something, Roy just ain't workin'."

Carlos pulls Max's hand stretching the chain on the handcuffs, he fires directly on the chain seven times and it doesn't work. "Fuck man! This just ain't right homes!"

"Here let me try?"

"No, I can do it." Carlos says cutting him off, "Watch this!" he closes his eyes takes a deep breath and pulls the trigger. 'BLAM!' the chain snaps and Max Payne falls to the ground. He rises to his feet.

"That was a good shot." Max says complementing him.

"Eight times a charm... So where're we goin' now."

"Now? Now we go to see a magic man."


	34. 21: Trent

TRENT:  
  
HIS WORST DAY:

The Columbian's M-16s explode into repetitious fireballs tearing towards the rainy sky near Trent. 8-ball peels off making a clean getaway with no problems. Trent on the other hand, quickly rises to his feet the smooth metal gives way underneath him, the rain swelling under the soles of his shoes.

His face slams onto the rigged roof of the industrial building, his feet clanging against it as it takes him down like a waterfall. He grabs constantly trying to pull himself up like a salmon swimming up stream. The world seems to flow around him as the fear hits him, his fingers wrap around the roof's edge, he holds on tight but it's not enough, his muscles loosten and he plummets, his right knee slamming into the concrete.

"FUCK!" He pulls his gun out, sure that he's going to need it. A Columbian Cartel comes around the corner and he instantly points the gun at him putting a bullet in his chest, the Cartel falls down screaming in pain.

'Fuck this shit.' he thinks to himself, 'Augustus Armando can die another day.' he limps towards a brown Manana and gets inside, he hotwires it and quickly drives away before anything else happens.

As he approaches the subway station he realizes that the Manana is almost out of fuel. He pulls it to a halt and goes down into the subway. Decending into the depths of the damp tunnel. He'd have to make it back to Tony's house by subway car.

The train drops him off in the deja vu subway station, he could barely tell that he was in a different area. He was now in Shoreside Vale, the so-called rich and prosperous part of Liberty - if there is such a thing. He limps out of the subway car, his soaking wet overcoat dripping on the floor beneath his feet.

His head is down as he walks out of the car, he looks up and is terrified, six or seven Red Jacks, all carying Uzis and Colt forty-fives. 'I'm fucked! I'm fucked!' is the only thing that repetitiously runs through his head. He actually tries to walk past them but it doesn't work, a fist slams into his chest.

"Where the fuck you think you're goin' nigga'!"

Trent cowers backwards falling back on his bad knee. One of the Red Jacks shoves through a crowd of his own people and fires a shotgun blast in the air hitting one of the subway lights. Then he pumps the slide of the gun, the shell falls to the ground. The clanking sound of the shell-casing and the broken flickering florecent-light was enough to nausiate Trent, he thought he'd be dead any minute.

He stays low, trying to sprint his way out of this situation, the train has taken off and Trent runs through the darkened tunnel, knowing that the thugs are just around the corner. He takes his Colt forty-five and from his coat and his Desert Eagle from his belt, he keeps the Eagle in his left hand the Colt in his right.

He rounds the corner putting a bullet in the head of three Red Jacks, as he does he sees a man in a leather Jacket decend down the steps of the subway holding an AK-forty seven, blasting like a 'fucking madman!' He prays that it's Fido.

"Max... Max Payne? That you?" Now answer, "FIDO! Yes man," the firing has stopped no more gunfire, "I'm in some serious shit, you still got your AK?"

When he asks the question, somemore gunfire goes off, and then he sees it, an AK goes flying through the air, soaring high, it slams onto the subway tracks below. He runs over to it, sliding it up off the ground, he pulls the trigger; 'CLICK!' 'FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!' Trent screams at his luck, Fido wasn't giving him an AK to use, Fido was simply trying to explain that his was out of bullets.

"8-ball! You there?"

"I'm here my brotha'!"

"How the fuck'dya guys get here so fast?"

"Everyone took the subway man - before you did, it was the fastest way back."

"Who else is there?"

"No one, the're all back at Tony's."

"How many Red Jacks are left?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! You fuckin' pussies get all goddamn lovy dovy on your time, right now mothafucka' we got bidness to attend to!" One of the Red Jacks fearing for his life, pretending he doesn't by acting angry. All he was really trying to do was keep 8-ball from giving Trent the information he had asked about, this is solidified when 8-ball procedes to answer and loud gunfire keeps Trent from hearing.

The gunfire stops, "8-ball? Fido?"

"Yeah?"

"On three we come out shootin'! One!"  
Trent ducks low, using the tracks as the ground and the tile floor as cover, his arms at the same level as the Jacks' feet. There was no point in comming out on three, as he looked at it, that would be stupid, why let the Red Jacks be prepared for a full on attack, he had jumped on 'one' 8-ball had obviously understood and did the same:

While Trent was blasting Red Jacks full of holes, he spots one of them trying to sneak up on 8-ball around the corner, 8-ball instead surprises him, by swirling around and putting a hole in his head. "Motherfucker."

Trent ducks down, the gunfight was getting bloody, like rivers of Red Jacks' blood would run through Liberty City, and Trent, 8-ball, and Fido, remained unscarred. Streams of blood did in fact run down the steps of the subway, smeared on walls and places you wouldn't believe, gunfights in real life, seemed much more bloody than the ones in the movies.

Trent throw his Colt at one of the Red Jacks, it burst through the subway like a fireball, the empty gun slams hard into a Red Jack's face. Trent ducks back down, he can't help it he starts cracking up, giggling to himself, it was just so damn funny to see that tough guy go down from a flying gun. It was the kind of thing where you watch a comedy where something really stupid; that causes someone else pain; looks so funny that you can't resist the urge to laugh happens.

As he's laughing, the darkness of the flashes to dark briefly; he can't see, then it goes back to normal - again, briefly, but this time he spots something, a Red Jack, has stumbled upon his hiding place looking down at him. Trent points his gun up, dangerously close to his chin and fires five shots. As he does blood falls on his head like falling rain, but unlike rain warm and thick.

Trent wipes the blood off of his face with the sleave of his trenchcoat, he hears the rolling of an oncoming train, he watches the light come towards him, and the train comes on five times faster than he thought it would have. He jumps from his former hiding place, sliding across the bloody tile, he fires his gun, hitting a Red Jack in the knee caps then finally in the chest.

A stray bullet, lands directly in the heart of a young girl, nineteen or so. Trent, sees this and gets to his feet, a war is going on around him, and he's focusing on a single casualty. He thinks he shouldn't, he thinks it'll get him killed, he thinks this is crazy, but he does it anyway. He steps up to her and stands over her, as she doesn't even have the strength to ask for help. He watches the girl trying to breathe, he'd seen people go down before, innocent people, but he never cared before, 'what had changed?'

Staring at her, she didn't remind him of Sam, for some reason unknown to him, she reminded him of his mother, she didn't look anything like her, she looked _nothing _like her, maybe it was the flickering light, but... He felt a cold chill down his spine, the dying girl in front of him, he gets a flash of her getting shot with _his _gun. Then another flash of his mother when she was in her younger years. The images keep coming the florecent light aiding his nausia, he close his eyes and trys to shake the images out of his head, but it didn't work.

Nothing would work, he takes one last look at her, then falls to his knees spewing puke all over the tile floor. He cowers, and for the first time in he criminal career, he's choked, he feels weak, maybe he's just changed, but at the moment he feel like he's reached the peak of his career.

"When you can't take it anymore - get out!" That's what Tony had said to him once, he was sure he would, but 8-ball and Fido were his friends. He wasn't going to try and get them to leave, and he wasn't about to leave without seeing them, either leave themselves - or get killed.

The gunfire had stopped, and the war had ended, since he was still alive, he knew which side was undoubtedly the victor. The two men stand over him with guns, seeing him crouched down on his knees in front of a puddle of his own vomit, was the last thing he wanted 8-ball and Fido to witness.

"Oh shit..." 8-ball says crouching down next to the girl, "she's not good man." 8-ball's voice is compassionate, but 8-ball just saw her as another one of those people who gets caught up in gunfire.

Fido raises his gun and puts a bullet through the middle of her four head, her blood exploding onto the ground.

"Motherfucker!" Trent grabs Fido slamming him into the subway wall, he hits him in the face with his Desert Eagle. A tiny streak of Fido's blood makes a line on the wall behind him. Fido looses his temper and kicks Trent directly in the testicles. He goes down, screaming.

"Hey! HEY!" 8-ball says holding up his hands, "You gotta' listen to somethin' Trent, she was gonna' die! Now my man Fido here just put her out of her fuckin' misery--"

"You don't know that!"  
"Fuck I don't. You knew she was too, you just didn't have the balls to do somethin' about it! Now Fido did her ass a favor, and you attacked him for it, I'd kick your ass too."

Fido reaches a hand down to help Trent off the ground, Fido wipes blood off of his mouth, and Trent holds his crotch. The three of them leave the bloody scene silently but victoriously.

HIS WORST DAY CONTINUED...:

Fido 8-ball and Trent sit in a Mafia Sentinal. Trent keeps replaying the incident at the subway station in his head. They're driving back to Tony's place, the suburban home in Shoreside Vale.

A bullet goes flying through 8-ball's window shattered glass hitting both him, and Fido in the face, it clears them both going through the other window next to Fido. The car is next to them, the gunmen in the passenger seat. Trent gets out of the back, without closing his door. He takes his Desert Eagle out and points it at the driver.

"Put your FUCKIN' HANDS UP!" the man doesn't react, "Put em' up or I swear to God I'll blow your fuckin' head off!" He was angry and serious, maybe he was back to normal. The man does as he's told.

This way it would be easier to see who ordered the hit, he could 'persuade' them. The driver swerves around, pointing and MP5 at Trent's gut. Trent jerks backward in fear, his gun going off hitting the man in the eye. He falls down slowly, dead. The passenger gets out from the driver's side and points a gun up at him. The arms are skinny feminine.

Trent hopes for the best, wanting to find out which of the poweful crime leaders ordered the hit on the unbeatable trio. "Let me see your fuckin' hands!"

The woman doesn't get out of the car, she raises her hands with the gun dangling, there's a long pause. Then the woman speaks.

"Trent?..." He can't believe it, all of a sudden he does what the woman had done just seconds before, he rocognizes her voice.

"Oh my god! He tosses his gun on the ground. "Marilyne!"

8-ball comes around the other side of the car where Fido and he had been gaurding themselves. "What the hell is this?" 8-ball says looking at them both unarmed and unharmed. "Who's she?"

"8-ball, Fido, this is Marilyne my sister-in-law."

8-ball blinks several times bringing his head forward, "...Y..Your sister-in-law? Stop me if I'm mistaken here, but last time I checked, if you have a sister-in-law that means you have a brother."

"Yeah..." Trent says as if that's the stupidest thing anyone's ever said to him.

"You never told me you had a brother. What'dya do just hide every member of your family from everyone."

"Yeah well, my family has some secrets. Besides... keeps em' safe. - Marilyne, what the fuck are you doin' here? And why're you tryin' to kill me!"

"They never gave me a name. They gave me his picture," she says pointing to Fido, "They said that two others would be with him, one black, the other an Italian, wearing an overcoat. I took the job.

"Who's they?"

"Triad's." She says shrugging, her dark hair dangling down her shoulders. Trent hadn't seen her in awhile, her hair was as dark and as long as Agostino's, she had the face of an angel and the body of a goddess. She wore a tight fitting pink shirt, and baggy, sagging, green cargo pants reminicent of Fido's. Her belt seemingly cliped on one side of her hip, dangling down on the other side. It was a wonder how her pants were worn that way, and it was a mystery how her pants stayed up at all.

He felt a real sisterly affection for her, his brother Gino was a small-time crook - supposedly, the rumor had spread that he was the biggest leader to ever live. The young blonde haired mastermind was very similar to the story of Vinnie Gognitti.

"Where's Gino?"

"Gino's back home, he sent me to do some jobs down here in Liberty."

"Okay... there's something I want you to do..."

"Anything! I swear to god."

"I want you to go to San Fierra, San Andreas, and wait for me. Call my brother and tell him to go down there with you. When I've gotten a few things straightened out, I'll meet you and Gino there 'kay."

She nods.

"Now I don't know how long it's going to take me, but eventually I'll see you there. Take this money..." He takes out a wad of cash placing in her hand, "and get the fuck out of here." She does. Trent wasn't sure what he was doing. He did need to straighten things out, he had this idea that if he was still crime frenzied San Andreas would be a good place to hit next, or if he couldn't handle it anymore that San Fierra would be a good place to start again.

Marilyne turns back to Trent, "Trent?"

"What?"

"Let me do you a favor?"

"What?"

"I can take out the bastard that tried to get you killed."

"That's not a bad fuckin' idea," he says getting into the Sentinal and lighting a cigarette, "but once your done, you get on the first goddamn flight out of here... By the way... Who'd I kill?"

"He's not really that important, it's sad, but don't worry about it."

For some reason he doesn't. "Okay I'll see you in SA."

"Okay, you too."

8-ball gets into the car, "What the fuck was that all about?"

"Just drive the car 8-ball, if you'd listened you'd realize that it wasn't even that big a deal."

"Her tryin' to ice my ass may not be a big deal to you, but it's a big fuckin' deal to me."

"Yeah sure."

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

"What is it?" Trent whispers.

The next few sentences are speedy frantic, a puzzle peice of words.

"Cop man, he's comin' over."

"Well - what'dya wanna' do? I mean..."

"You wanna' stay here, it's just the broken tail-light, probably."

"We got GUNS man!"

"He don't fuckin' know that, hide 'em!"  
"There's a fuckin' dead body in on the ground next to us!"  
"SHIT!" 8-ball brings his foot down on the gas hard, crashing it to the floor. The car bursts off blazing tires. BLLLAAAAMMM. Two cars collide with the force of a train wreck demolishing each other twirling into an exploding mass of slicing metal debris. Trent's head jolts forward slamming into his seat. He screams in pain as the car comes to a halt. His neck was almost snapped from impact, luckily it was just enough for his injuries to be minor, any faster he would have been dead. Fido stumbles out of the car onto the sidewalk. Trent can't see 8-ball.

He turns his head around the corner to check on him, he takes off his seatbelt awkwardly, leaning forward stretching his head around 8-ball's seat. 8-ball is face down, blood dripping off the dashboard, tiny pieces of glass surrounding his face.

"8-ball..." he says with a familiar urge to fall asleep, "8-ball!" he says it loud enough for him to hear.

Suddenly 8-balls head snaps up off the dashboard, like he's had a bad dream, "FUCK!"

"8-ball?"

8-ball wipes blood off of his face, "How long have I been out."

"A minute, somewhere around there..."

"Seems like it's been a fuckin' year... 8-ball shifts once in his seat uncomofortably, "Where's Fido?"

"He ran off. - I don't know."

"Goddamn it!" Suddenly 8-ball's head lifts up, following something moving, coming towards his door. "Holy shit!"

"What? What the fuck is it?"

"D-Ice."

8-ball's door swings open and a hand come through grabbing him, yanking him out of the car. "Come on motherfucker! You think you can hit me!"

Trent can barely make out the shaky image of D-Ice stomping on 8-ball, his view wasn't too good. He takes out his Desert Eagle. And gets out of the car.

"Ice?!" Trent finally gets a good look a D-Ice. Ice is a black guy with what looks like the same build as Trent, actually D-Ice is much much stronger than Trent. His baggy clothes hide is true strength from view. As 8-ball said, he didn't wear the Red Jacks' colors, he simply wore a white T-shirt and Blue jeans. He also wore a gold necklace that had a very small pendant with the inscription 'Ice' written in Platinum. D-Ice had larger curls then most black men, but they were natural, he also had a large beard and mustache, it didn't make him look old, he looked very young, but it was Trent's impression that D-Ice would look much different than he did.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Fuck you."

The pairing of these two words was something that D-Ice wasn't expecting, what Trent was foolishly unexpecting was D-Ice's reaction.

'BAM!' D-Ice puts a bullet directly in Trent's shoulder, the force knocks him to the ground.

"There motherfucker! Fuck you! Fuck _YOU_!! Fuckin' bitch..."

"Agg. Fuck..." Trent lay on the ground, not helpless, but feeling very much so. All of a sudden as D-Ice turns around to attack Trent, I spikey haired leather wearing pale man, slams a brick into the back of D-Ice's head. D-Ice is knocked forward the front of his face smashing into the cracked side winshield of the Sentinal. This causes him to fall backwards in an even more awkward position.

The man in leather procedes to drage D-Ice away. While he's doing this Trent can't help but wonder where in the fuck that stupid cop is.

"Hey... Hey... HEY!..... FREAK!? What the fuck're you doin'!"

The man comes forward getting his pale face right in front of Trent's. "He's comin' home with me. But he ain't the only one, you guys killed my best friend."

"What the fuck are you talkin' abou-?"

The brick comes down on Trent's face. He's not knocked out, but he screams, constantly. He shuts his eyes and screams for hours. He can feel the man lift him awkwardly into a van, but still he barely opens his eyes through the entire thing, his gun missing. Now he really is helpless. As the driving begins, he can't think of anything better to do but sleep.

He wakes up as he's being tied to a chair. This seemed very similar to a story 8-ball told him about a chainsaw incident. The window in the apartment is wide open, the falling rain looked to Trent like dropping needles falling all around them. This image helps rise the fear presented in Trent's situation, it wasn't his intention but the cold falling needles out side, were the very thing that helped accelerate his fear.

"Hello LADIES! The guy with the spikey hair comes out of nowhere. Trent notices that his eyes are a very, very, very, very bright blue. It fit with his personality; cold...

"You know why I brought you here? Probably not. Do you watch the news?"

He removes the gag from Trent's mouth, "I'm a criminal."

"So you've heard of me?"

"No."

"You heard about the 'New Harwood Butcher?'"

"Are you telling me - that you - are - the 'New Harwood Butcher'? This - is what you - are telling me?"

That's right.

"The 'New Harwood Butcher kills women!"

"I never really, looked at it that way but you're right, I did. Blonde women - young - blonde women. I loved all of them..."

In this exact moment Trent realizes he doesn't know what he's dealing with.

"But see... what's your name?"

"Trent..."

"See, Trent, I have a personal vendetta with you. Both you are and this guy here, are my new guinee pigs for my little test. I'm trying to see if.......... Killing _you _will be as much fun as slaughtering all these bitches in here."

Trent looks around, everything in his house except the wooden drawers are white, blood is everywhere. The room doesn't look secret or gaurded whatsoever. "How the fuck do you get away with this."

"All the people who live in this apartment are junkies, or are too afraid to go to anyone. This my friend, is a free vestige of privacy, no distractions, no hiding. You killed my best friend, he was like a brother to me!"

"Who the fuck are you talkin' about!"

"JEFF! DON'T fuckin' DO this! I saw the guy in the leather jacket blow him away. I saw him okay!?" He waves a six-inch knife in the air the whole time. "I saw him, he got away this time, but next time... Heh..heh next time I'll slaughter that motherfucker like I'm Charles Manson. "Now..."

The next few minutes are so violent and frantic that yelling is constantly happening. Three men yelling at the same time for different reasons.

"... I don't really like guns. I usually like to use stuff that burns, and stuff that cuts," he places a large knife almost the size of a sword into burning charcoal. "but when I get burning stuff that cuts... Mmm, now that's satisfying."

"You can't do this! You sick motherFUCKER!"

"I think I'll take care of your buddy here first, because - for you - I want to make it as painful - even emotionally... as I can. So let's go to work..." he takes a knife, the one that isn't in the charcoal and places it on D-Ice's forearm. Trent screams at him to stop, the unconsciouss D-Ice doesn't awake from his slumber. "Now, see, I have to try to be careful, because if I'm not carefull, doing this could kille our friend here and I don't want that. It's like peeling the skin off an apple."

He takes the first chunk of flesh from D-Ice's arm. He snaps awake, screaming at the top of his lungs, tied very disturbingly, to an easy chair. "YES! I love that fuckin' sound! He takes the gag off of D-Ice's mouth and lets him scream in pain. He goes over to his CD player and starts to play incredibly loud Heavy Metal music. "How do you like that HUH!?" He says screaming wildly, smiling as he rips another piece of flesh from D-Ice's forearm. "Yeah motherfucker! You don't get to hear that everyday do ya' I'm gonna' make you over buddy, you're gonna' look good as NEW!" He again turns the music up louder.

"Stop it you fuck! Fuck you pussy!"

The freak completely ignores Trent's constant raging for him to stop, he continues for almost a half an hour peeling off the flesh from D-Ice's forearm. Finally he finishes dropping the knife on the ground. He spits blood on the ground, "Blecckk! I fuckin' hate blood!" he hits D-Ice in the face, as if it was his fault for getting blood on him. "Fucker! Look what you did!" The whole time as unusual as it was, the freak seemed so serious about everything he said, or did.

"Heres where the fun **_REALLY _**begins!" he steps over to the charcoal with the sword inside.

Trent's hand comes forward, grabbing the handle of the sword. The rope had been wrapped around Trent's wrists, his watch was on his wrist and loose enough to come off too. He just slid it off giving him one free hand. The other hand however was tied to the little wooden pillar-like things that made up the back of the chair. The rope was more like a string, but it was strong.

He takes the flaming sword and slices the leather freak's chest. Then he quickly brings the firy sword down on the string binding his feet. As the leather freak comes towards him, he takes his left hand swinging the chair through the air. The chair leg smack violently into the freak's face. Tren could swear he saw a tooth fly out. The chair is heavy though, and gravity yanks hard on Trent's wrist as the chair lands, sliding across the floor. It comes close to pulling his hand out of the socket. He swings the knife again cutting the string from the chair and his own wrist. Trent slices downward, a perfect cut, from the top of his chest to the bottom of his torso. Trent had no idea that it would, but it made a crucifix on the freaks chest.

"What's your fuckin' name freak?" Trent asks him, in a kind of relieved way.

"Kory."

"Well freak," he says, as if Kory'd said that freak was his name, "Have fun." Trent walks over to the charcoal still holding the sword, he kicks the griller onto Kory, burning embers fall on him like the rain outside. Red dots rise up, burning ashes, orange, yellow, and red. "Did that burn?" he says it with a sincerety that makes his sarcasm oscar worthy. "I'm sorry freak, I didn't know that would hurt you so bad!"

Trent's demeanor completely changes, "You know what?" he waves the sword at Kory acting jittery and energetic, "You like to SKIN people! You like skinning the flesh from peoples' forearms! How come I didn't see it before? I want to see, what this motherfucker, is going to-do-to-**you**!"

He swings the sword with great power releasing D-Ice from his prison, it doesn't seem like he's careful anytime he swings the sword, but neither him nor did D-Ice even get the slightest cut. D-Ice is in so much pain and so angry at the same time, that Trent can tell, that D-Ice doesn't know what to do.

"You gotta' gun!?" D-Ice finally asks him, in an overwhelming display of mind over matter.

Trent shakes his head 'no.'

"I got my nine... in my right pocket, can you get it for me?"

Trent looks at Kory burning, and bleeding, a fire hadn't started yet. "Sure..." Trent walks over to D-Ice's right side, and with his left hand removes D-Ices nine millemeter. He puts the gun in D-Ices left hand.

"Thank you." The gun immediately fires a shell from the chamber, and Kory's kneecap pops, he holds his knee in pain blood spewing from it. "I'm going to shoot, every bullet I have from this gun, in a non-fatal place on your body, and if you aren't dead yet. I'm gonna beat you harder and faster than a hurricane could rip down a poor farmers house. Trent..."

"Yeah..."  
"Anything, **_ANYTHING_**... You fuckin' want... you come to me."

"Only if I can watch you can this fuckin' goth..."

"Heh... Deal... You gotta' cellphone?"

Trent hands D-Ice his cellphone and watches him dial the numbers awkwardly with his wrong hand. Then he places the phone to his ear, "B.J.... I'm hurt real bad man, I need you to send someone down here right away..."

Trent watches D-Ice go through all the mysteries about where they are, then he gives B.J. the address, "yeah, tell them to send somebody here quick. I'm bleeding like crazy. And I'm about to do something that will get my heart goin'." He hands Trent his phone then empties all of his bullets into Kory's feet, hands, shoulders, everywhere that was less than fatal, as he said he would do. He runs out of bullets, Trent watches Kory scream as D-Ice bashes his head in with the butt of his gun. After five hits, the building starts to burn. D-Ice continues but Trent slowly walks out. Following a trail of blood down the hallway and the steps that D-Ice'd left earlier.

It was dark out now, and Trent just wanted to see his babygirl, he was relieved that the worst day of his life, would not be his last.


	35. 21: Max & Carlos

MAX & CARLOS:

"We're goin' to see this guy that I met awhile back, I met him here. He's a V dealer, he's lookin' to change the face of Liberty's drug ring. I've been chasing V since it got my wife and daughter killed, but no matter how much you fight, how hard, how fast, or how long. It's a drug, the formula never goes missing people never stop dealing. I've heard several stories about the ultimate high, the one drug that was perfect and eluded police, the drug that would have changed the face of crime if it weren't for the destruction of its formula. Bullshit, all of it, something like that never disappears. It's the same with Liberty City Survivor, ghost story, bullshit, fake. But see that's the myth, the myth _is _that Liberty City Survivor is fake, we just have to find the guy that'll prove us right and everyone else wrong."

"Man dog do you have like -a-a-a- a speech written down somewhere when you talk? Goddamn Max you talk more than anyone I know."

"That include you?"

"I don't know yet I'll have to think about it."

Max Parks the Stinger, on the street. He looks above him, the sky is pale gray, pitch-black clouds roll in slowly, approaching. On the radio on the way over, Max had just caught that a storm might be approaching the city. To Max this was just another sign of things to come. Right now he was just riding forward, soon he'd be at the edge, at the storm itself. The world was full of hidden messages and metaphores that plagued Max like the Black Death, nothing in the world was more painful than to be reminded of your pain.

Carlos steps up to a door that was unrealistically beat up, and shot full of bullet holes. A very flimsy roof over head. Carlos admires the cover from rainfall, but still enjoys the fresh air smell, which - every once and a while - was covered by the smell of moist wood. He waits for Max to approach the building. It's small and unpainted, the wet, dark wood, like a house out of horror story, looking completely abandoned.

Max steps up and knocks on the door.

"You're tellin' me someone lives here?"

Max shushes him, drawing his gun. Max kicks in the door and enters like a bounty hunter, aiming his gun. "DON'T MOVE!"

Inside is a woman, with long dark hair, she aims a Desert Eagle at him, she seems awfully small to be carrying around a Desert Eagle. Around her are bags, and packages. Clothes and personal items dropped into them.

"Who the fuck are you, and what do you want?"

"Where you goin'?" Max asks her.

"I asked you first. What the fuck are you doing here!" She asks him seriously. There's a short pause. "If I don't get an answer soon, I'll put a bullet right between your eyes."

"Good luck." she seems awfully surprised by this response, Max continues. "I'm here to see David."

"David's dead." She answers, almost immediately.

"Really how did he die."

"He got shot."

"Hmm. Who shot him." Carlos doesn't say anything, he just watches everything, like it's straight out of a movie.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

"That's too bad... Listen? I'm going to put my gun down, you don't have to lower yours, but I'd appreciate it, because me and my friend Carlos here got some unanswered questions." Max does exactly as he said he would, lowering his gun, even putting it away. She lowers hers as well.

"First question..." Max says.

"Shoot." she replies throwing clothes in her bag.

"Where you goin?"

"I find it funny that you don't have any idea who the hell I am, and the first thing you wanna' know is where I'm going."

"Nevertheless, that was my first question."

"San Andreas."

Max raises his eyebrows as if to say '_and..._'

"San _Fierra_."

"Why?"

"Hey fuck you, you're lucky I'm telling you anything at all."

"Who told you to go there?"

"I can't tell you that. And if you ask again... my reply won't be pleasant."

Max understands and changes the subject. "You said David was dead..."

"-Yeah." She says very matter-of-factly, "He's dead."

Max walks around the broken-down home. The inside no better in any way than the outside, he picks up a picture frame, the picture inside showed the young woman he was speaking to, and a young man wearing a baggy sweatshirt and blue jeans, short blonde hair and a baseball cap. The description, seemed familiar to Max.

"Who's this?"  
"That's my husband."

For some reason to Max, both of them seemed rather young to be married. "He here?"

"No." She says snatching the picture out of his hand, and shoving it into a black bag. "He's not."

"I'm sorry... what was I saying before? Oh yeah, so did David leave anything behind, tell you anything... uhh?

"That depends on what you wanna' know."

"I want to know who runs Liberty City Survivor."

She laughs, as if she can't believe what she's hearing.

"I talked to David, 'MagicMan', - whatever you want to call him - before, and whether he told you or not, he was involved in that show, and I want to know HOW involved HE was."

"He told me. Supposedly, no one knows who runs it. Unless of course you count Donald Love, but I don't think it was his idea. Besides he's gone now. He disappeared years ago."

"You have any idea how much info, or anything that David might have left behind?"

"There's a bag over there, I packed all of his stuff in it. I was going to bury it before I left, but you'll probably just dig it up anyway. That's the way you cops are..." she swings a bag over her shoulder, "Right?"

"Why were you going to bury it?" Max asks with increasing suspition that she killed David.

"Not for THAT reason asshole! Goddamn, I was burying it out of respect for him. Why would I tell you all this if I killed him?"

"Good point." Max says, only slightly guilty about asking. "Can I ask you one more question? What's your husband's name?"

"Sorry..." She says lifting up another bag, "I'm through packing. I have to leave." She pushes the door open angrily and and stomps out the door.

"That was interesting." Carlos says genuinly, "Hanging out with you might even be more fun than I thought."

"What do you think's in the bag?"

"Probably all bullshit, I can't imagine him keeping a lot of interesting stuff in here."

Max wanders around the room again, pulling open drawers. He pulls open the first one, pictures they all seemed to be random people. One of them though has a picture of the womans husband, Max lifts it up, a rubberband is wrapped around it, realizing it's a group of pictures Max removes the band. The second picture is a mugshot, of a scruffy looking man with hair that goes down to his ears. For some reason the mans name is unreadable. Between two pictures appears to be a drawing of that man, wearing all black, an overcoat and a flat-top cowboy hat, weilding a samurai sword.

"What's that?" Carlos asks him.

"It's some criminal urban legend, it doesn't matter it has nothing to do with our case."

"Does it have anything to do with your last case?" He asks referring to the infamous trio.

"I don't think so..."

"So what's the legend?"

"It's not important."

"So it should be no problem telling me?"

"Fine, it's short anyway, it's actually two legends. One is that a young criminal, - he at least _looks _like he's still in high school - runs a large mob ring, under the radar, acts like a small-time dealer, like Keyser Soze, or criminal James Bonde, he supposedly runs everything. The second story interlocks with the first, some guy with no past, or records, goes on a killing rampage, Vigilante killer, dressed all in black."

"Hmm." Carlos says smiling, lighting a cigarette, "Who does that remind you of?"

"I know." Max says, "That's what I thought too, but he doesn't quite fit the bill. I don't think it's based on my story at all, I think it's something else."  
"Do you think it's real."

"Who cares?" Max says finally getting through to Carlos his disinterest.

Max opens up the last drawer to find a large quantity of V. "It appears," Max says, "that she left all of his stuff."

Carlos moves over to the case, he wraps his fingers around the zipper and then stops, turning to Max. "You know, it could be a bomb."

"It could." Max say as if that wouldn't bother him in the least.

"You want me to call it in?"

"I don't think she was lying, you can just open it." Max says this very sure of his decision.

Carlos slowly and carefully opens the case, he lifts it as if it were the heaviest thing in the world, and acts as if it would help if it did turn out to be a bomb. He throws the suitcase open. Inside is a folded peice of paper marked 'Recipe for Twinkie filling. A golden key, and a bullet with an ureadable inscription on it.

"Recipe for Twinkie filling..." Carlos says reading aloud.

"It's bullshit," Max says, "open it."

Carlos folds the piece of paper down, revealing several paragraphs of wording. He turns to Max laughing. "He's actually got the recipe for Twinkie filling here, this is the fuckin' dumbest shit I've ever seen."

"Wait, look on the back."

Carlos had almost discarded the paper, until Max stopped him. He turns the paper over and finds a list. The list reads:

Liberty City:

Agostino/Sal Nico, Trent/Marilyne/Samantha? Baldassarre, Fidelio Gerodi, Tony Cipriani, El Burro, D-Ice, Amaya Kaida, Sheng Yul, Lucio/Marco/Lanza Forelli, Marc Lincoln, Carlos, Max Payne, Donald Love?.

"Oh shit man, what the fuck is this?"

Max takes the paper out of Carlos' hand and stares at it, "Appears to be a hit list... Both our names are on here - Carlos where's your last name?"

Carlos laughs to himself a little bit, "I don't have one."

"Serious?"

Carlos nods his head. For some reason Max finds that extremely facinating.

"Okay," Carlos says, "I'll take this key down to a buddy o' mine, find out what's up with it. I want you to find out what's on this," he hands Max the bullet, "I'm sure it's an inscritpion of some kind, I'll have my buddy run all these names through a computer... but I recognize most of them anyway. Cool?"

Max twirls the bullet in his fingers staring at it, "Yep. Cool."

"Okay." Carlos lifts up the black case and heads out.

"Okay," Carlos says, "We're going to Liberty City airport, Check out a lock box number one-zeero-ooone."

"How'd you find that number?

"Underneath the hit list it reads, 'second list in lockbox number one-zero-one', see - there - at the very bottom. Which reminds me, the names on the list are all Liberty's big-time leaders and their biggest 'big men'."

"Who's Marilyne Baldassarre?"

"Remember the girl who left the case?"

"The one with the long hair?"

"Bingo."

"Fuck, I didn't know she was related to Trent."

"Well you didn't even know her first name, and she's not related to Trent, not by blood anyway. Marc Lincoln is El Burro's personal body guard, Sheng Yul is the Triad leader... -"

"Yeah I know who they are."

"What'd the inscription say."

"It had his name on it," Max says smiling, "He had a bullet with his name on it."

"Maybe he figured betraying all those people would get to him after awhile. We found another list with twenty other hits on it, combined they contain the names of leaders and bigshots from every gang excluding Columbian Cartel."

"Well that's interesting enough, anything else?"

"Like what?"  
"Like what our names are doing on a list full of criminals."

"Oh, he just added your name on because he hated you, and mine because I hang around you."

"Donald Love's name is on there after ours."

"There've been sightings of Donald Love around Liberty for days now, he's becoming the city's big-foot, and his status is the size of King Kong so if people say they see him, chances are, they saw him."

"What's in there?" Carlos asks while Max pokes his head inside the airport locker.

"Well, the first thing is a second hit list, Vice City... Then..." Max flips the page - YES!"

"What! What!" Carlos asks anxious to find out what it is.

"It's information on Liberty City Survivor... damn, it's all petty crap, it's ridiculous."

"I think I know where we can find some more info..."

"Oh yeah, where?"

"Love Media Tower."


	36. 22: The Crew

The Crew:

Trent slams through the door, beeds of rain falling off his face, like he was made of melting ice. He takes a final step into the large living room and slumps over onto the couch, face down, he slowly rolls over staring at the roof.

"Dad! What happened?" Samantha, she seems worried, but she doesn't hold a look of sadness."I got shot in the shoulder. That's it." he takes her hand, "You're not worried are you?"

"No." she says sheepishly, she felt the same way her father did; as long as he wasn't going to die, it didn't matter much. "--Hey what is that!" she says looking at his wrist.

"Oh, that's a rope-burn..."

"What."

"Nothin'. - Hey could you get Tony for me, that'd be a big help." she quickly gets up and heads for the other room as Fidelio walks in.

"What the fucks wrong with him?" Fidelio says staring at Trent.

"He took a bullet in the shoulder." she says entering Tony's room, Trent can hear her talking in the background. "--Tony my dad wants you."

"I'm busy."

"It's urgent."

"Well what the fuck is the problem!"

"He's shot!"

Tony storms past her, "Well why the hell didn't you tell me that the first time." He looks at Trent, a bloody mess. "He just got shot in the shoulder?"

"That's what she said." Fidelio says pointing to Samantha.

"Yeah," Samantha says, "I asked him what was wrong, and he told me he was shot in the shoulder. I just don't think it's all his blood."

"She's right..." Trent says, "Most of it's not mine."

"Okay." Tony says, "I'm gonna' straighten this out." he takes out his silver cellphone and starts dialing numbers.

"You're the man Tony." Trent says putting his feet up on the couch.

"You know this' the only time I'm gonna' let you do that?"

"Fuck you Tony." Trent says joking.

"You keep talkin' to me like that and I'll castrate ya'! -- No, not you Fox, you fuckin' moron." Tony says speaking into his phone. "I need you to come down here and check out Trenton...... He's got a bullet in his shoulder............. Okay. Alright, bye.

8-ball comes in, "Did you just call Fox? He was just here like ten minutes ago man." 8-ball's face is bandaged from the crash, and the beating from D-Ice. "It shouldn't take him that long to get here. Hey Trent?"

"Yeah?"

"I got somethin' planned for D-Ice, don't worry man. He can't get away with this shit."

"What's your plan?"

"Just wait 'til he gets his car back from the Pay N' Spray."

"No, no, no, no, no! He is the one who shot me man, but that doesn't matter anymore, I mean... it's hard to explain. He got fucked up man, I think he got his punishment and maybe more! I'm just sayin', I don't think we'll have to worry about Red Jacks anymore, in fact I think that we might have ourselves some allies."

"That motherfucker beat the shit out of me!"

"I know, but I'm tellin' you man, it's over."

"What the fuck happened?"

Trent smiles. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Tony sits down on the couch across from the bleeding Trent. "Trent, after you heal, I'm going to be sending you, Fido, 8-ball, and Fidelio to Vice City. You're going to be doin' some jobs for an old aquaintance of mine, by the name of Vercetti."

"You talkin' about Tommy Vercetti?" Trent says with a slight smile.

"What does that mean?" Sam asks, this time she does look sad.

"That means I'm going to meet my biggest influence."

"How long are you going to be gone?" She asks him.

"I don't know."

"He'll be gone for awhile. Since Agostino and Sal did such a good job lookin' after awhile, they'll stay behind to do just that."

"Sure." Sam says with mixed feelings. She wipes tears from her eyes before it's too noticable, then she heads up stairs, "I think I'll go to bed, I'm kinda' tired. You gonna' be alright dad?"

"Heh, don't worry about me, but this shit burns like a bitch."

"Ever been shot before?" Agostino asks coming down the stairs.

"Yeah, I have."

"Last time Fox came here," Agostino says, "He didn't just fix up 8-ball, my brother Sal had to be taken to the hospital, he got hit by a car.

"Oh that's fucked up. I don't even think Fox is going to be sendin' _me_ to the hospital."

"Hey-" 8-ball says butting in, "--umm, did anyone notice that Max Payne just disappeared, what the hell'd he do? Lose interest?"

"That's a good fuckin' question," Fidelio says, "I wonder what the fuck he's up to." He says blowing smoke from his mouth.

"I don't even want to fuckin' know." Trent says, closing his eyes. Sleep, sounded so good to him.


	37. 22: Max & Carlos

MAX & CARLOS:  
  
"What're we gonna' do?" Max asks strolling across the slippery tile floor. "Ask 'em, hey who runs Liberty City Survivor? Oh, and by the way, have you seen the mysterious Donald Love lately?"

"Trust me they'll give us what whe want." Carlos says smiling.

"How do you know that?" Max says worried to shit, 'God I hope he doesn't do something fuckin' stupid!' "What the fuck are you planning on doing?"

The building was huge, Max and Carlos pace back and forth seperately, this time Carlos gets up and heads towards the counter. To Max's surprise, Carlos pulls out his gun.

"What are you doing?" Max asks, actually scared.

"You want information right, I know just how to get information. Ever do good cop bad cop? The key is... fuck the good cop, we're both bad cops." Carlos says handing Max a gun.

"Are you crazy? I'm not going to fuckin' do this Carl?"

"Don't call me Carl you make me sound like a white-boy, and come on man, it's not like you haven't done worse..." Max contemplates this, his pause cause Carlos to smile, "...Eh? Come on amigo, let's do this shit." Max and Carlos walk up to the receptionist.

"I told you before, I don't know who you're talking about. If you'd like to talk to my boss, I can set up a meeting." The receptionist doesn't realize that Max and Carlos are holding guns.

Carlos lifts his hand over the counter, pointing his gun in his face. "How 'bout a meeting now?"

Max swings around pointing his gun at one of the body guards, who looks very - and unsurprisingly to Max - similar to a mobster. " Throw your gun on the ground now. The guard keeps his gun drawn. "PUT IT DOWN!" the guard doesn't take his eyes or his gun off Max. "I'm NYPD, ask the receptionist if you don't believe me." This time the guard reacts, slowly lowering his gun, he gets down on the ground putting his hands on the back of his head.

"MAX!!!"

Max's universe slows and he ducks forward falling onto the floor, he turns around quickly looking behind him, he fires up twice. BLAM!BLAM! The second guards chest pops open, blood spilling across the tile floor. This causes a commotion, people who were staring calmly, now get up and run for the glass doors.

Max stands up, he looks at the guard on the floor, "You okay?"

"That guy was my friend."

"....Sorry." Max couldn't think of anything else to say, the guy had it comin'.

"Come on Max, 'bad cop' remember."

"Yeah right, whatever." Max wipes his mouth with his sleeve as carlos leads the receptionist at gunpoint towards the elevator.

"What floor is it?"

The receptionist shaking answers hastily, "The second floor."

"That's it!" Max says thinking aloud.

"This better not be fuckin' bullshit buddy." Carlos says threatening the man.

The elevator doors open up and the three of them step into the hallway. Carlos looks at the receptionist, "Which door is it?"

"I-I-It-It's this one -th-th-th-th-th-th-the first one."

"Let him go Carlos, he's going to piss in his pants." Carlos lets go of him and the receptionist scrambles away like a mouse from a cat.

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," Max says, "it seems like every single time we go somewhere it sends us somewhere completely different.

"Kick the door down."

"Yeah."

The room has heavy wooden double doors, with golden door handles that when matched together create the combined emblem LM or 'Love Media'.

Carlos is on the left side, twin Desert Eagles, Max is on the right, twin Barrettas. Max and Carlos kick in both doors, they fly open inside is a man with his head in his hands sitting at the end of a long desk, Carlos and Max have guns pointed at him. He's not looking at them.

"What the fuck do you think's wrong with him?" Carlos asks Max confused.

"I don't know." Max says moving closer to the man.

The man slowly lifts his head, he looks at Max, staring straight down the barrels. Then his head drifts up to Carlos. "Oh good, your here, fine get it over with." to Max's surprise the man takes his gun and puts it to his head. The man is obviously depressed, anti-depression pills are strewn around the table in front of him and on the floor.

"This guy's fucked up Max."

"Who the fuck do you think we are?" Max asks the man.

"You were hired by the Cartel right. I heard you guys were comin'."

"We're NYPD." Max tells him.

"Your not Augustus' men? Oh thank god. Man you got to get me the fuck out of here. I have to go to Staunton Island Plaza."

"Why?"

The man is much less than quick to answer, he seems incredibly reluctant.

"You weren't on the hit list that we found." Carlos tells the man, hoping it will help him cooperate.

It doesn't, "You found it on David didn't you? Man you guys are so fuckin' smart aren't you? The list you found on Max was just the tip of the iceberg, it's the surface, but we fucked up, so Augustus' men are comin' here to wipe us out.

"What? How'd you fuck up?" Max asks. The man ignores him, he runs for his monotors in the left-back corner of the room. A look of sheer terror crosses his face.

"FUCK! They're comin'! Now that you're here, you can get me out alive! I'll tell you every-fuckin'-thing you wanna' know just get me the hell --"

His body explodes his blood spilling across the montors behind him. Glass and golden sparks soar through the air like the fourth of July. Augustus' men had made their scheduled visit. They fire holes through their target, ripping the man to shreads.

"SHIT!" Carlos says taking out the first Cartel. "We didn't even find out his fuckin' name!"

Max pops painkillers, this will help because it wasn't too late from the last time, and another episode will happen soon, this will cancel out both. "Yeah well--" Max raisies his gun pulling the trigger, the bullet glides through the air, Max - sure it will hit it's mark - gets a grip. And the slow-motion world disappears. "we do know where to go next." Max says as the Cartels head explodes like a balloon.

"And where the fuck is that." Carlos jumps underneath the large table as another Cartel comes through the door. The Cartel points his gun at Max firing, Max agains goes into the zone, dropping straight down. As he does Carlos' bullets shatters the Cartel's ankle.

"Staunton Island Plaza." Max finally replies watching the Cartel fall forward, his chin slamming into the top of the table, and his neck hitting the edge. He falls to the floor holding his neck, trying to scream, but he can't. He points his M4 at Carlos' head. As he does two bullets get him in the stomach and elbow. Carlos had weakened him. Now he can't pull the trigger.

Max steps up to the Cartel he points his gun at his face. BLAM!BLAM! He spots one last Cartel outside, who runs for it. Max fires twice at him. He misses.

Pushing himself into the hallway the Max fires as the twice again as the Cartel makes a run for the elevator. The wall far in front of him explodes but, no Cartel.

The last Cartel makes it the the elevator, and even Max's slow-motion perception can't stop it. He fires the last two times, the button pad next to the elevator is ripped apart. "FUCK!"

Carlos comes running out of the room heading straight for the stairs.

"I didn't catch him" Carlos says as they walk towards Max's car.

"Let's just get this shit over with." Max says driving the car to Staunton Island Plaza. When They get there it's already like a war. Yakuzas gundown Cartels and guards, guards gundown Yakuzas and Cartels, Cartels gundown Guards and Yakuzas.

"Holy fuckin' shit!" Carlos says "this is probably the craziest thing I've ever seen."

"I'll have to think about that one." Max says getting out of his car. He'd seen some crazy shit in his time and it would take a lot for anything to take the cake.

Carlos and Max run for the doors of the Plaza, ducking down away from all the shooting. Their backs pressed against a wall they watch anxiously as bullets fly back and fourth. Hoping that they won't get shot.

Finally they make it into the building. "This is where the fun really begins." Carlos says to Max as they walk inside. Dead bodies lying all over the floor.

"This building is huge." Max says looking up at the roof, it's hight above their heads and they're only on the first floor.

"What're we lookin' for again."

"That's what I was just thinkin'," Max takes a deep breath, "We're looking for any info we can, we're going to arrest the big man that runs LCS and then we're going to call a bunch of cops down here to arrest anyone else inolved." 'This is going to be a madhouse.'

"Arrest my ass, this is going to turn into a bloodfest." Carlos says looking at Max.

"I know," Max says disapointed, "but at least they'll get a taste of their own medicine."

Doing things neat and clean was never Max's style, it alway got bloody. As bad as that made him feel, he was good at it. Most of the criminals he went after were hard pressed to give up anyway, not blowing the hell out of them seemed impossible.

"What do you want to do Max?"

"I'll take these stairs here, - it's too dangerous to take the elevators, - you take the ones on the left check all the rooms I'll meet up with you down here, if not in Donald Loves office. We'll ask around for his office, if one of us finds it, we'll meet the other there." Max had Carlos' cellphone number, and Carlos had Max's.

"Okay."

They head off in different directions. The shooting starts almost immediately.

MAX:

Max walks up the clinking metal steps of Staunton Island Plaza. He crouches low moving slowly, hoping stealth will do the trick, with his guns drawn, Max would hope this was easier than the last time he was in a building full of suspects. It wouldn't be. He stops, hesitating to move any closer. He had heard something.

"--so I walk in there and this woman's totally naked, I'm laughing so hard I can't breath!"

Max jumps around the corner pointing his guns at the guards, "DON'T fuckin' MOVE!"

"It's Max Payne, he's been fuckin' shit up for weeks. Kill the motherfucka'!"

The Italian accents were making Max suspicious, what were the odds that an entire group of hired men were all Italian. In all seriousness Max was out gunned, the three men ahead of him held Uzis while he had his pistols. This was going to be hard.

'BLAM! BLBALMAM!' Max quickly fires three shots from the two guns. His world curtains, a layer of slow-motion filming over his eyes. His first bullet hits one of the guards in the face, the other two hit the second guard right under the rib cage and in the gut. He runs down the steps as quick as possible, however slow that seems to him. The ground constantly explodes beneath his feet, sparks a world fo debris and remolding bullets, ricocheting off the metal floor. That's how deep his conditione went, he could actually see the bullets deform as they ricochet off of the ground below.

He swerves around quickly aiming up the stairs, in the area he'd been standing moments before. A man comes into view, and his perception goes back to normal. He fires upward turning the gaurd into a bloody mess. He runs up the steps.

Max finds the wounded man, bullets in his abdomen, "Tell me were Donald Loves office is."

The man lifts up his left hand pointing to one of the doors, Max looks at the door. It becomes blurry distorted. Max was in the zone again, he looks at the wounded man. The pointing finger was a trick to throw off Max's attention, he was ready to riddle Max's belly with nine millemeter rounds.

Max takes the man's right hand with his left and pushes it to the side, the Uzi fires rapidly ripping the wall behind Max apart. He jerks his head back then brings it forward hard, slamming his head into the guards face, blood drips out of the guards nose, but all Max has done is make him angry. Max carefully lifts his right arm as the gaurd tries to fight it off, and bring his Uzi towards Max. Max jerks his arm quickly, breaking the guards thumb, the barrel of the gun jams into the guards chin, 'BLAM!'

A single shot puts the guard out of his misery.

'Fuck me! - This is going to be hard!"


	38. 21: Fido

FIDO:

Fido stumbles out of the Sentinal his only mentality tells him to wipe his face off, he wobbles, out of reality like looking at himself through a cage in a human zoo. He wipes his face smeering blood across his hands, the only thing it seemed like he couldn't wipe off was the burning sensation all over his face.

He wasn't sticking around, that black and white Patriot they'd slammed into was D-Ice's car. Fido'd seen it cruising around the streets at night, he wasn't afraid of D-Ice but fucking with him meant a huge war against the mafia. That's why he'd never taken any contract on D-Ice, not only was every attempt to difuse D-Ice wildly unsuccessful, but it meant the distruction of three past gangs in Liberty City over a one year period. He might have taken a contract on D-Ice if he was asked by Tony directly, but then he'd skip town, let Tony clean up his own mess. Fido seemed suicidal and wasn't afraid to die, but if he could help it he'd live as long as he felt like it.

'Great,' he thought, 'all this and now I've got to go to Vice City' Vice was the cozy Miami like bubblegum hellhole that Fido has nightmares about. He'd heard about Vice, a lot about vice, it was supposedly very violent and crime ridden, this didn't change the fact that going there will probably make him feel like he's walked into an N'sync concert.

Over half the people in Liberty enjoyed or tolerated the rain because they had to due to poverty. People who actually had the money to leave - like Fido - just plain liked the rain and most of the city itself. If not he would have left, no that's not true, the biggest reason he never left was his crew. It seems cliche, but when a man risks his life to put a bullet in a man who tried to rip you to pieces with an uzi full of hollow-points, you don't give a shit whether it's cliche or not. That man deserves your respect.

The reason they were going to Vice was because Tony was planning to show Trent some respect for working so goddamn hard. Tony liked to tell Fido his secrets, knowing that they couldn't drift that way. Most of them weren't really big anyway so it didn't matter. Fido wasn't sure about working with Tommy Vercetti, he was going to watch out for him. He'd heard a rumor that Tommy'd shot his friend Lance and his boss for no reason except to get a bigger piece of the pie. No loyalty whatsoever.

As Fido sits trying to catch his breath - blood dripping from his face - a van pulls up next to him on the sidewalk. 'Oh this looks familiar', he thinks to himself.

Two Columbians get out holding submachineguns with silencers, one of them is Fido's size, the other one is huge, a monster. 'This should be interesting.'

Both their voices are deep, throats like street tunnels. "Hey homes. What's up with you man." The smaller man pushes him realizing he's dizzy. Fido stumbles but doesn't fall down.

'Fucking pussies.'

"Don't you want to know why we're here?" the smaller man speaking again. "...What the fuck's wrong with him!"

"Aside from that crash all the way over there, nothin', he don't talk."

"Why the fuck are we here then?"

"The other two can talk and they'll want him back."

Fido had heard about these guys, two hitman hired by Augusus Armando to 'clean up' Liberty the Cartel were trying to take over again, and Fido was stuck in the middle along with the rest of the Mafia.

The bigger guy moves around behind him. Fido doesn't flinch, the man pulls Fido's hands behind his back, "Get'm get'm!"

The smaller man moves forward and Fido's foot flies up kicking him in the crotch. Fido uses all of his strength and leaning forward thrusts the larger guy forward slamming him on the street next to the other man. As the man gets on one knee Fido kicks him again, in the gut it knocks the wind out of him.

As he rises all the way Fido kicks him into a parked Voodoo, then starts blasting him with dozens of streetfighting punches. These fucking cowards were screwing with Fido and he wasn't about to stop struggling.

Fido sees a green flash and his face explodes with agony, burning and cutting, blood flowing from his face like niagra falls.

"WHAT MOTHERFUCKA'! YOU WHITE BOY BITCH! Kick me in the balls!?"

The smaller Columbian had hit Fido in the face with a beer bottle. Fido shifts around on the ground. Seemingly helpless the Columbians make their move.

The big Columbian lifts up Fido by his underarms, "Get his feet."

The smaller man grabs Fido's ankles and they start walking towards the back of the van.

BLAM!BLAM!BLAM!BLAM! The smaller man jerks backwards, dropping Fido's legs as the impact pulls him back ripping through his flesh. Fido points his smoking Desert Eagle at the bigger man's head, looking above himself.

Fido hits the concrete hard, electric charges shooting up his spine. He doesn't get a chance to fire. The Columbian brings a steel-toe boot down on Fido's whole face pushing in shards of broken glass. With his foot still there, he yanks on Fido's raised arm pulling the Desert Eagle from Fido's grasp.

"You one crazy mothafucker I'll give you that...but..." he says pulling another handgun from Fido's pocket, smiling, "I win."

He kicks Fido between the legs and tosses him inside the van. As the door closes, Fido is taken by a blackhole the van was dark, extremely dark. For the first time Fido thought he'd lost his touch, he could've taken them both. Now, here he was, in the back of a blacked out van heading to god knows where. Just another day in Liberty...


	39. 23: Trent & 8ball

TRENT & 8-BALL:

"Yo, Trent, wake your ass up man. You feeling better dog." 8-ball slaps his hand on Trent's raised knee, knocking it off the couch.

"I'm feelin' nautious like I got the flue or somethin'."

"I haven't seen Fido in awhile, somethin' mighta' happened to him."

"That guy?"

"Not with that shit again man, isn't that the same shit you was spittin' when they locked his ass in cell."

8-ball doesn't say anything, Trent could be right.

Trent pulls himself up and looks around the room. Total silence, just 8-ball sitting at his feet. "Where the fuck is the rest of the Crew? This place's empty."

"Tony went back to his hideout, he told me he's going to fill your pockets with money, putting him in good with the Red Jacks was obviously good for business. You're a tough bastard man, your the kinda' guy who could retire in a few years and not get blasted for bein' a bitch. Anyway Fidelio went out to look for Fido, he heard some shit and went to go check it out. Agostino went to see Sal in the hospital... Samantha went with'm."

"Shit..."

"You overreact to much man, so she got a little crush on him. He don't seem like a bad guy. I don't think he'd be stupid or fucked up enough to ever touch her."

"Yeah well if your wrong I'm going to wrap my hands around his fuckin' neck."

"On top o' that I been watchin' this crazy shit on the news that says two guys have been fuckin' up Staunton Island Plaza. There's a rumor Donald love's in there too. Man I'm glad we're goin' to Vice for a while. For me that shit'll be half vacation, get away from all this crazyness. You know?"

"You got family 8-ball?"

"Shit..." 8-ball says getting up and grabbing a beer from the fridge, coming back in he opens it and says, "if I where to ask you that, you'd leave all kinds of shit out."

"You know pretty much everything about my _immediate _family," Trent says putting his feet back on the couch. "over time you've pretty much met or at least heard of everyone."

"I had a brother, but he got dusted." 8-ball takes a sip of his beer.

"... What happened to him."

8-ball's demeanor never changes the whole time, "He got a new guy in his group and the guy wasted him. To shots to the heart right as he was comin' through the front door. Fuckin' ambush."

"Damn... Why?"

"I don't know, he wanted to be king I guess. Fuckin' bastard."

Trent winces grabbing his shoulder, gritting his teeth. The burning sensation was tearing him apart.

"I feel fucked up, you think I'm bleeding to death?"

"No, this things too goddamn tight, here let me loosen it up." 8-ball says.

He sets his beer down and pulls apart the tournaquet then ties it back together. 8-ball's phone rings, he answers it. "Yeah.............."

"Seriously!.......... SHIT! I'll be there in a second.. Alright." 'beep'

"I gotta' get the fuck out of here man Fidelio found Fido behind Stuanton Plaza."

"Your kidding me!"

"No man I gotta' jet, later dog." He sets his beer down on the coffee table, a force pulls his arm back.

"Help me up." Trent says anxiously. "I'm goin' whether you take me or not, so you might as well give me a ride so as you don't look like an idiot."

"Fine, you die, everything you own is mine."

"The feelings mutual." 8-ball gives him a dirty look as they head towards 8-ball's black Rancher.

Looking For Fido:

8-ball and Trent barrel down the streets at a terrifying pace, 8-ball manning the wheel was the only thing that made Trent feel safe. It could also be the fact that he was losing blood. It's hard to be scared when it's difficult to even think. He pulls his nine millemeter from his pocket with his left hand and checks the bullets. As he does he can hear gunfire getting louder ahead of him, and 8-ball doesn't seem to be getting any slower.

"8-ball?" he says looking at him through sunglasses, "I think -" He looks forward. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?"

'CCCRRRRSSHHH' a dark figure turns the windshield into a cobweb, blood on the windshield 8-ball can't see anything. "SHIT!

'BLLLLAAAMMM' The rancher stops abruptly. The two of them appear to have been saved by their seatbelts. The aftermath the only thought, like the collision never happened. 8-ball stares down at his chest looking at his seatbelt. "Gotta' love 'em!" 8-ball says. Taking out a retractable knife he slits the belt and gets out of the Rancher.

Trent takes off his glasses, examining them he puts them back on his face, then he gets out of the car, his right arm still in a splint he grips the gun in his awkward hand.

"Hoooly SHIT!" 8-ball says looking at the mess. Their Rancher is stopped dead, the front torn into little bits. "Goddamn man, seatbelt is my new favorite crime feature!"

"The only way that could happen is if we hit something."

"What about him?" 8-ball says looking at a dead body in a black business suit.

"Impossible man, he hit our windshield there's no fuckin' way he could have done that to the front of your Rancher. He must have -" Trent sees a familiar dark figure in one of the windows of the building, it stops him for a second.

"Must've what?"

"-have fallen out of the window."

"Look man!" 8-ball says agitated, "I see what your sayin' about the front of the car and everything, but bullets are flyin' every fuckin' where, so lets try to get the FUCK outta' here. 'Right?"

"Alright... Oh could'ja loud a bullet into the chamber for me?" He says smiling tilting his gun over to 8-ball. 8-ball yanks on the guns slide. "I love that sound..." Trent says looking at his gun. "Ready?"

"Fuck do you think?" 8-ball says bringing two Uzis up to his face, "I was born ready, now let's go find Fido."


	40. 23: Fidelio

FIDELIO:

Fidelio sits in front of Staunton Island Hospital sipping a beer. Tony had told him to wait there for an arriving ambulance. He hears the sound of sirens, and drops his beer at his feet and picks up a shotgun that had been leaning on his knee. He holds it up waiting for the ambulance to come closer. The ambulance is about two yards in front of him when he fires a shot. It hits the left side missing the driver.

The ambulance tilts onto its side and slides across the ground. Fidelio casually walks over to the front of the ambulance, he tilts his body looking through the window at the terrified driver.

"Who's in the back?"

The driver stumbles on his words and Fidelio pumps a shell out of the shotgun and with one hand presses it against the windshield aiming it at the man's face. This time the driver is very clear, "Some FUCKING Colombian guy! He's bleeding all over the place!"

Fidelio walks over to the back of the van and pulls the left door open - which right now is the bottom door. Another medic appears, having a panic attack.

"Get the fuck out of here..." Fidelio says kicking him in his ass as he crawls out of the van. "You're lucky I don't kill your fuckin' ass."

Smiling he pulls the stretcher sideways out of the van, a Colombian is strapped to it, he pulls the wheels down and puts the stretcher on the ground the correct way then gets in the man's face.

"I heard you and your buddy shoved a mute in the back of a van, now... where did you take him? I'm not a liar, so I'll tell you right now that I will only ask you once." he pulls the oxygen away from the Colombians face.

He coughs "I... don't, I don't..."

"I don't I don't!? That doesn't sound like it's going to be the right fuckin' answer does it?" He takes his left hand and presses on one of the bullet wounds.

"NO! NO! NO! AAAHH!" He breathes heavily, "FUCK, Staunton... PLAZA! Staunton Plaza..."

"Yep Staunton Plaza, got'ya."

He aims his shotgun at the wheels that support the Colombians lower body and fires causing them to retract and Colombian's stretcher is now standing him almost straight up.

"No mercy." He blows the Colombians brains all over the stretcher. And walks up the steps towards Staunton Island Plaza like nothing ever happened.

He hops in his dark green Sabre and rides down the street, the closer he gets the more gunshots there seem to be. He spots several vans in all of the mess. Fido had to be in one of them. He waits for signs anything that might show where Fido is. He watches a Colombian guy pull open the back of a Van and the gangster's gun goes off. Fidelio is a distance from the scene but can still see a very violent spray of blood spew from the Colombians neck, staining the back of the van.

Fidelio presses a single button on his phone.

".... 8-ball I found Fido, get your ass down here right now!...... YES fuckin' seriously! Hurry your ass up!"

He jumps out of his Sabre running for the back of the van that he'd seen Fido in - He trips and almost falls down when he hears a machinegun clip empty into four mobsters... Fido was killing them. Fidelio runs over to the open door of the van, as he does Fido jumps appears and slams the blade into the the flesh of Fidelio's gut. Fidelio watches watches the back of Fido's head as he bolts out of there.

'Fuck...' Fidelio stumbles back on one knee a single stream of warm blood layers his mouth and begins to drip onto the cold grass, droplets of rain blinding him he could care less, he was in a dream now. 'BOOOM!' Fielio's snapped back to reality, he looks at a pool of blood on the ground, his shotgun clutched in his hand gunpowder clinging to the cylinder barrel. The Colombian in front of him falls, a hole in his chest. Fidelio could just barely make out the figure. He'd fired blind.

He pulls himself up to his feet and stumbles back to his car, a combat knife still dug deep in his stomach. He wipes water off of his eyes and peers through the window. He doesn't realize how long he's been waiting, but after awhile he spots a black Rancher riding through, the body of a man hits the windshield, and the Rancher's engine roars seeming to move faster, like a rhyno that's been hit with a brick while running.

'Fuck...' 'BLLLAAAMMM' The Rancher sends Fidelio's Sabre flying into the road. Fidelio's lungs seem to compress, and his breathing problems worsen. Directly after the first impact BAM, a speeding car sends the Sabre swirling in four three-sixties. Pieces of the car seem to be everywhere. Fidelio's thoughts disappear and his eyes burn out.

The last thing he sees... is the knife sticking out of him.


	41. 23: Max & Carlos

MAX & CARLOS:

Despite the trick that the Mobster had pulled Max decides to check the door to his left. He goes inside strolling across the tanned carpet he stands in front of a large oak table, with a projector at the end of it - next to him, on the right. He shuts the door calmly and slowly, turning the lights off he presses a button on the top of the projector.

The bloody figure of an Asian man, in a fish factory outfit appears on screen. Shot full of holes. Another with a business suit on with his throat slit, blood dripping across his own table. Max can make out the typical tropical design of a Cartels short sleeve. Something unusual was going on. He keeps pressing buttons. Live people this time. A shot of a man through a hospital window, apperently taken from a separate rooftop shows Max the slightly familiar face of Sal Nico, his brother Agostino at the foot of his bed. A picture of Fidelio Gerodi eating at Mama's Restaurant, Samantha Baldassarre through a window in a house nice enough to be a mansion. Yakuza leader Amaya Kaida getting into a Limo. Max flipped through all of the pictures. Realizing he was looking at the beginning results of a revolutionary mass hit that would eventually lead to the death of almost every major crime leader. The last three, 8-ball, Trent, and Fido.

'Holy shit...' Max's picture had been in the slide too. He had no choice but to find Donald Love and find out how this tied in with Liberty City Survivor and how Lovemedia was involved.

Max heres the familiar sound of foot-steps on tile and jumps forward launching himself onto the floor, he hides at the other end of the table. He watches light creep into the room as the door opens up the door clicking shut. He listens carefully at the rustling of clothing.

"Anyone in here?" The voice is quiet withdrawn, and familiar!  
"Carlos!" Max reveals himself, with a slight flinch from Carlos.

"Max! Jesus, man, how'd you get here?"

"Did you see the body out there?"

"Yeah."

"You have to look at this Carlos."

"Why?"

"See these two pictures?" He goes back to the first two pictures. Showing the dead bodies of two triads.

"Uh-huh?"

"These two guys are very important Triads. See, Triads are a group of people with three leaders. These are two of them. One of them's not on here. You know who?"

"Who?"

Max pulls out a piece of paper, it's the hit list. "Sheng Yul, the leader from this hit list. You know who else there ISN'T a picture of on this projector?"

"I get it! I get!" Carlos says in his 'hurry up!' voice.

"Donald Love... Do you get it? Their names are bullshit no one's after them, they're running the show, probably along with Augustus Armando, he's the only other leader who's name isn't on here or the projector."

"Naw can't be man -"  
"Why not!"

Carlos gives him a bad look "Think about it man, Sheng Yul was killed yesterday, I heard it on the news. If he's dead then how come it couldn't have been the Cartel who killed 'em? Also if their names aren't on here because they aren't going to be killed then how come Augustus' name isn't on there. And why would the Mafia be working for Donald Love when they KNOW that he's going to be killing their boss.

"Maybe they don't that's the point. -"

"But that still doesn't explain the other things."

"Fuck. Fine maybe your right. But someway I'm right I know it."

A Colombian Man bursts through the door in a frenzy, firing bullets at the two of them. Max watches the man slowly pull the trigger the door gliding open. The room going from black to a yellow-orange. Bullets swimming towards them.

Both Max and Carlos fire at the Colombian Max misses, and runs after him. -

- A Colombian man tears the door open and starts firing bulllets at Carlos and Max. Carlos fires six bullets in the Colombian's direction and misses. 'BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!' Three holes explode through Carlos, his right arm, his left shoulder and his rib next to his right arm. Max runs out of the room unaware, it's too dark to see. Carlos stumbles backwards his body slams into window shades, he listens as the crinkling sound of the shades becomes the crinkling sound of glass, the shades hold his weight for a small amount of time then he feels himself dropping. His right arm grabs hold of the floor, his body jolts from his fall, but his arm manages to keep him up.

Carlos painfully lifts his left arm and places his left hand next to his right one. Both of his arms rest against his head. At first he doesn't try to pull himself up. Luckily for him, the floor to ceiling window wasn't wet on the inside yet, making his grip on the carpet solid. He'd have to pull himself up soon or deal with a wet floor when trying to pull up his weight. He starts to hear footsteps crimp the carpet floor. Coming towards him, getting louder.

"Max?..."

Carlos waits for a response. None. He looks up as a Colombian appears over him, smiling. Blood sprays across Carlos' face, it washes away from falling rain. The Colombian above him has an uncountable amount of holes in his chest. Max pushes the Colombian's back and watches him fall forward. Helping Carlos through the window he watches the body soar towards a black Rancher.

"Jesus Christ..." Max says quietly, thinking aloud. BAM! The body hits the Rancher's windshield, speeding up it slams into a green Sabre, that fly's up a small hill and bleeds into the streets. A black Sentinal speeding ahead crashes into it violently. Max can't believe that he caused all of that chaos.

He turns to Carlos, "You okay?"

"Naw, man I'm not gonna' make it, go on with out me."

"No Carlos, You aren't going to die."

Carlos' head snaps up, "Who the said anything about dying, I'm getting the fuck out of here!"

"Okay, are you going to be good by yourself."

"I think I can manage. Especially if you give me that." He says pointing to a Tec-nine in Max's hand.

"The guy outside had it. Here."

Carlos takes it and stands up, refusing Max's help.

"I'm going home for a little while, spend some time with my family... It's been cool meeting you Max. I hope you've got my back in the future."

"Sure count on it man." The two of them shake hands.

The two of them begin to part ways.

Carlos lifts up his tec-nine "It's always good when a former criminal has a cop for a friend."

"Yeah..." Max says laughing as he walks away. -

- Carlos bolts down the steps as fast as he can move, woozy from loss of blood. He gets through the front door without confrontation. He bumps into a girl as he's coming through the door. Getting blood on her clothes.

"Oh shit! Sorry... uhh." He can't think of anything else to say he starts to run again. He makes it into the street. He sees a man leaning into a thrashed up Sentinal. He gets a glimpse of a payphone, a Cartel using it. He contemplates his next move.

'I don't have time for this shit!' he pumps the Cartel full of bullets and runs through the street towards the phone. He lifts the reciever to his ear. "He won't be calling you back." and slams it down then puts a quarter into the phone. 'Man I must really be out of it.' he think's to himself as he realizes he didn't need to put the quarter in. He dials the number '911'.

"Send an Ambulance... I've been shot!" His last words before he slams the phone down once again, and drops down next to it resting. - - Max had noticed something about the Plaza earlier. Not only was there an American flag at the top of the building but one hanging from the side one floor below the roof. He didn't think much of it at first but now realized above or below that flag was probably Donald Love's office. He gets into the elevator. Pressing the second to last floor. First. As the doors open Max spots the familiar Lovemedia insignia. He steps forward and pushes open the doors. Walking inside like it's his home. Max had to be quick, he had no more painkillers left he'd be a victim of his own condition in less than an hour.

Donald Love almost pretends not to notice Max coming through the door. He shoves things into a black suitcase, his plum colored suit and hardwood floors were the signs of his wealth and status. The lights were dimmed and Chatterbox was carrying on in the background. Love was obviously keeping watch on one of his radio stations.

"Max," he says continuing to put things in his suitcase. "I didn't expect you to be here.

"What's going on with Augustus Armando."

"Are you going to kill me for not telling you, that would be a serious crime that could effect your career."

"I've done worse."

Donald Love opens his mouth and starts to say something but stops and continues apperently changing his mind about what he's going to say, "Fine, I'll tell you what's going on I'll be disappearing anyway, and you'll have no proof that I said it in the first place."

"Where are you going?"

"Not here -"

"Where!-"

"Shoot me."

"Alright, finish what you were saying. First I want to know who's running Liberty City Survivor." Max felt a slight sense of Deja vu.

"I would have thought that's be obvious, Tony Cipriani had had the idea from the beginning. He new that smart members of his family and allies like 8-ball would be smart enough to make it out alive. Other prisoners who try are executed by my staff. The mobsters don't realize that Augustus's paying me to have Tony killed. Augustus Armando was planning on taking over every crime element in this lurid city himself. I reasoned with him expressing the disturbing unrealistic nature of his plan. As a result I found immunity for only two of us. Myself and Mr. Yul. As a result Yul had to kill his other two partners including his own brother... It was to be our own Triad, American, Chinese, and Colombian. But that woman got a hold of Mr.Yul and the plan was ruined."

"Marilyne..."

"Yes, I should have gotten out of it when Augustus suggested that we finish the mute. If he ever finds out I was involved I'm a dead man. Augustus will never make it through this alive. Tony has three of the best men I've ever seen. This is my only chance to leave, and I'm taking it now... Now," Donald love lifts up his suitcase and goes forward. Max stops him.

Love turns towards the monitors, "Your friend Carlos is here... My men have him"

"What?" Max says without looking away from Donald Love.

"Ah, hear he is now," Love says pointing behind Max.

Max turns around, 'SSHHHPP!'

A dart sticks out of Max's neck, he loses some mobility and falls to the ground.

Donald Love sticks the dart gun in his suit and sets the case on the ground. He'd used the suitcase to hide the dart gun.

"It's just a normal tranquilizer. I'm sorry, Max but I can't have you interfearing in my affairs." he lifts the case up and walks out of the room. Stepping over Max.

Max lies on the floor of Donald Loves office he had no choice but to sleep, but he was releaved that he'd solved the mystery. The last thing Max could think before drifting asleep was what was going to happen to him...


	42. 23: Fido

FIDO:

Fido lays in the back of the Colombians van, wielding an eleven inch blade, combat knife. He'd pocketed it from the man as his handgun was being taken from his pocket. Fido hadn't been in so much pain in a long time. His face peirced with broken glass, and worst of all he had lost. There was no denying in Fido's mind that he was getting stale he'd have to get crafty soon, his life depended on it.

Fido had only ever been caught like this twice before, and it was never by criminals. It was a mystery to him what was going on, but he could care less. He was going to get his revenge anyway.

Laying in the back of the van looking up at barely visible rooftop Fido found himself thinking about Trent's daughter. It confused him how little time Trent could spend with his daughter but how much time Agostino was able to. It was true that Trent was a slightly better hired gun than Agostino, and Tony was a stubborn bastard, despite the way it looked from the outside, Tony was not a bully. He couldn't push anybody around. Shit, it was probably his mom that made him end up that way. Trent had to be the most loyal person Fido knew, he took every job no matter what it was.

Fido was close, but if Tony ever betrayed Fido he would never think twice about giving him a bullet, or anyone else for that matter. It was hard enough for Fido to try to trust anyone in the first place, ever since that bitch Catalina, and that crazy chick Maria had just reminded him how annoying people were.

Fido held his breath, the van was pulling in somewhere. He couldn't see but, he could here the crunch of the dirt beneath the wheels of the van. He gets to his feet but has to crouch down. He prepares himself, waiting, knife above his chest, ready to swing. The door clicks on the back of the van, then it swings open.

The Cartel on the other side, is startled to see Fido holding a knife. BAM! His handgun goes off, hitting Fido in the chest. Fido, stumbles backward. Then in a fit of rage he bursts forward slashing horizontally, the Cartels throat splits open spraying blood across the van's backdoor.

Fido, stumbles out, his head felt like it was filled with air, and his chest feel compressing, a vice grip on his heart. He holds his chest in pain as he staggers towards the front of the van. Fido'd been shot in the lung, his trouble breathing was having a serious effect on him.

Despite all of this Fido, pulls open the front door of the van, and looks around inside. He looks at the dashboard, he pulls open a compartment and grabs his weapon. The Uzi the Cartel had used on him earlier. He as he wobbles back towards the end of the van, he takes the silencer off, he wanted these motherfucker to know where he was, and that he was serious.

He leans against the side of the Rumpo, at the rear. He looks forward, four Mobsters are walking around the outside of Staunton Island Plaza. He waves at them, trying to get them to come over, they do, but all of them point their guns at him. 'Motherfuckers are they crazy!' he starts blasting away on them. His Uzi jams, he drops it on the ground. He was in a dirt patch, but ahead of him was some of the greenest grass in Liberty. He could hear the sound of running feet through this grass.

He takes his combat knife out and hides behind the open door of the van. He makes out the black clothing, no way it was a pedestrian. Mobsters had shot at him just seconds before. He angrily jumps out from behind the door and sticks the knife in the Mobster. Fido felt like he was dying. He couldn't take it anymore. He bolts forward up a small hill towards the streets, trying desprately to breath. 'CCLLNK'

Fido hits the ground violently. His head pulsing. A Cartel standing over him holding a two-by-four. "Where you think your goin'?"

'I don't have time for this shit!' he gets on his knees and takes a forward step, the Cartel hits him in the back with the piece of wood, but Fido isn't affected. He brings his fist up punching the Cartel between the legs. Fido pats down the Cartel, 'FUCK! No guns!' Fido takes the two-by-four and runs into the street. Behind him the Cartel, runs towards him, all of a sudden. 'ZZZMMM! SPPPSHHH' A Mafia Sentinal speeding forward blasts the Cartel, The sentinal was going towards Fido now, he jumps to his right. BAM, a Sabre had come up the hill that Fido'd come through, and the Sentinal had run into it. The Sabre twirls around violently as the Sentinal stops.

The Sabre makes it's last rotation and hits Fido above the legs, sending him soaring his head cracks against a parked Stallion. His head is cut open, and he bleeds on the concrete. He felt like he was going to die. Deja vu.


	43. 23: Sam Agostino & Sal

SAM AGOSTINO & SAL:

Sam and Agostino walk step out of the cleanly carpeted Hospital elevator and enter the hallways. Florecent lights hanging over head and the smell of babypowder. The hospital might be the cleanest place Agostino'd ever seen in Liberty City. Sam's sneakers squeeked across the floor as she walked, while Agostino's shoes clicked as he walked.

As they walk forward trying to find the room they'd move Sal into, Agostino out of the corner of his eye catches Samantha looking at him.

"Agostino?" Sam says, as they walk, "What's the weirdest thing that's ever happened to you?"

"What do you mean? Like if I had a weird dream or something?"

"No, something that actually happened."

"Uhh," He pokes his head inside of a room then keeps walking, "You know what? Why don't you tell me yours first so I can get an idea what you're talkin' about."

"Okay!" She says smiling, running forward to get ahead of him so she can look at him while she speaks, walking backwards she continues. "I'm sitting in class this one day..."

"Okay?"

"and alluva' sudden I hear the loudest scream I've ever heard in my entire life and this kid stands up screaming, blood running down his pants, a huge pencil is sticking out of his thigh, and my teacher calls the hospital."

"What happened?"

"The kid had stolen someones girlfriend and he made him pay for it."

"That's not weird! That happens in my business."

"Has it ever happened two years in a row to the day?"

"What?" Agostino says raising his eyebrows.

"See that's what was so weird about it, it happened the next year to the day."

"How do you know?"

"It was my birthday." She says bumping into an empty stretcher.

"Really well that's pretty weird. Fortunately, you won't be bored, 'cause I got one just as weird as that."  
"Oh you do huh!"

"This is the door right here, we'll go inside in a minute." He looks around for hospital staff, nobody. He takes out a cigarette and sets it aflame. "This'll be no problem I guess, since you already know what I do. This guy was messin' with Tony, takin' money from him. A lot of money. Then he decided to insult him in front of his mother. So Tony tells me, 'Agostino,' and this is before Fido even came into the picture you know? Anyways he says 'Agostino, the son of a bitch stole my fuckin' money, then he disrespects me. He don't have the right to do that to us. You and your brother are the best guys I got. I want you to find that asshole and make'm pay.

So I do what he says right, go to the house, get my gun ready, knock on the door. The guy's not answerin' like nobody's home or somethin'. Later, it turns out, nobody was home. I'd kicked the door down, and gone through all of his shit, when I realize he's really not there, and his backdoor's locked from the inside.

I step out the front door, and I spot him. He goes running into this little park, nice green grass, a little pond, and one tree. He jumps behind the tree and I fire like six shot's at it. Now I go around the tree and... poof gone."

"What?! No way! That's impossible" she sounds serious, but she looks anxious to hear more.

"They checked the whole area, never found anyway he could've escaped. He resurfaced like two year later maybe and killed off a few of our guys. The guy'd told some people he was going to find me, but he never did and no one's seen him since."

"Wow," she says pulling on the strings of her hoody, "that's like a ghost story. Are you afraid he'll find you?"

"No," He says pulling open the door, "I'm actually looking forward to it."

Sal, lays in a hospital bed watching the news. The two of them walk in, and spot him; wearing his glasses. Hiding his eyes from everyone.

"Hi Sal." Samantha says waving at him.

"What's up."

"We where just having a conversation about weird things..." Agostino says smiling.

"What?" Sal lets out a little bit of a laugh, wrapping his hands around his taped ribs.

"What's the weirdest thing that's ever happened to you?" Samantha says pulling up a chair, she sits down resting her arms on the backrest, and her head on her arms.

"That's not really for little girls..."

"Oh, come on, please!"

"What story is it?"

"Carrie."

"Oh god, I don't know about that... Naw come on, tell her anyway it couldn't hurt her any. I don't think."

"What is it!?" She says impatiently.

"Fine, fine, I've got this friend - Well I _HAD _this friend named Serri. I was chillin' out on his couch having a beer. This fucking asshole does I think three different drugs right there in front of me. Acid, Heroin, and Coke. He was also drinkin' and told me he'd done some LSD earlier that day.

This guy was lookin' like a damn beast or somethin', he no longer looked like a mobster. You know what I mean? He was skinny, unshaved, and his house was shitty as hell. _HE _tells me there's a women in the other room naked. Of course I didn't believe him who the hell would come into his dump you know, and want to see _him_, I couldn't even believe I was there. He picks up the biggest knife I've ever seen, goes into the other room.

After about fifteen minutes, I start wondering what the hell he's really doing. He comes out holding the goddamn thing with blood dripping off of it, he comes off with some bullshit about, she wouldn't 'let him _have _it'. I didn't even think their was a girl before that. I go inside and theres a chick strapped to the bed, stabbed five times. She lifts her head up and says, 'Either fuck me, or kill me but do something you stupid son of a bitch.' So I unstrapped her carried her over my shoulder. Shot the motherfucker comin' through the door and drove her to the hospital in my car. That's how I met Carrie."

"You saved her?" she says with a kind of gleam in her eyes.

"Yeah. A lot of guys in Liberty seem to think women are some kind of thing that they can just take their anger out on. Shit you want to take out your anger _that _bad, just cruise around poppin' rival gangsters. Some of these guys pop of hookers like M&M's."

"What happened?"

"I married her."

"What! Whoa, really!"

"Yeah why not?"

"That is a weird story. Do you guys have any kids?"

"No, thank god." he pauses, "no offense."

"You getting better?" Agostino asks.

"Oh yeah, I feel like roses and sunshine." Agostino's head jerks. "What is it?"

"Sshh." Agostino says listening. He whispers quietly, "Did you hear that?"

"What?" Sam says, alert, but unafraid.

"Gunfire... muffled. At least I think so. Here, Sam, I want you to get in this bed over here on the right side of the room. Stay under the covers." He hides next to the door. Sal to his left and Sam to his right, the door was also on his left. He points his gun over at the left wall.

The door swings open and a Cartel come through holding a silenced Uzi, he brings it forward to fire at Sal, he's shocked to see that a gun is being pointed at his face, he begins to turn towards Agostino. 'BLAM' Agostino grabs the Cartel's gun as he falls.

"Sal, it's got to be a hit man. I need you to get up and go to the car."

"Fuck the doctors." Sal says getting up, the doctors had told him he might not be able to walk for a few months. He stands on his own two feet and starts to walk - ridgedly - towards the door.

"Sam, you and Sal stay ahead of me, I'm going to be covering you both, you've got to stay down."

Sam moves ahead and helps Sal stay on his feet.

Agostino walks behind them cautiously, slowly, moving forward with two guns like a soldier. They make it to the elevator without any negative recognition, aside from a few nurses.

The elevator doors open and like a trumpet sounding, Agostino's gun launches bullets through the air, dropping a Cartel. And they move through the lobby. A Security guard moves forward and gets a Glock shoved in his face.

"See what happens motherfucker!?" Agostino says smiling. The guard takes a step back. "Yeah... That's what I thought."

A Cartel comes through the double doors to Agostino's left, as they get to the front door. Agostino's quick reflexes, send him down. He swerves around and drops a bullet in the security guards head. The guard was only a fraction of a second to sending Agostino back to his maker.

They get into Agostino's Car and start driving a top speed. Six Cartels jump into the back of a truck, and it moves forward.

'FUCK!' Agostino thinks, these guys are going to do us in. They make it to an area familiar to Fidelio, he'd been to Fido's hideout a few times, the are driving past it... now. They swerve where two streets meet. Agostino fires through the window at the Cartels. An old fashioned Horse and buggy had been on the street. The horse startled, runs through the street, right through the Cartels line of vision. The horse clears the Cartels truck but, the truck slams into the buggy with a violent force, this yanks the horse back, and knocks it to the ground. The truck from the force of the buggy tilts over and the Cartels are gone.

"That was lucky," Agostino says, coming back through the window and sitting down.

"Hey is that Fido!" Sam says pointing forward.

Another person jumps almost right in front of the car. "WHAT THE FUCK!"

Agostino accidentally runs down the man and then to his horror a green Sabre flies into the road. 'BAM!' Their car stops almost instantly and the Sabre goes forward making threesixties.

Agostino struggles with his airbag. Annoyed he puts a bullet through it, as well as the passanger side. "Fuck," he says taking off his seatbelt. He leans over and looks at his brother. Sal's slumped forward his seat belt holding him up. Agostino takes the seatbelt off and lays him down on both seats. He hears the back door click. He lifts his head, tasting the metallic blood run into his mouth from his broken nose.

"Sam! SAM what are you doing."

When he hears her voice she sounds unharmed, "I saw my dad." he hears from a distance.

"What!?"

"I saw my dad!"

"Are you crazy!? SAM!?" -

- Sam runs forward "Oomph!" she slams into a Latino man, and it knocks her to the ground, frozen, she doesn't know what to do. She looks down at her gray hoody, and blue jeans blood is smeared across them. She watches the man limp away. He apologizes to her, as he does.

She gets a look at 8-ball and her dad.

"...now let's go find Fido." 8-ball says.

"Fido?" Sam says. The both of them jump obviously suprised to see her. "I just saw Fido, he - he - I don't know. Everything's confusing. I -- we just got back from the hospital, these guy where trying to kill us, and then... we hit this car. And I spotted you two. I... I don't know but I think Sal might be hurt."

"Sal's with you. Jesus Christ. Sam why didn't you stay with Agostino, there's a lot of dangerous shit going on!" Trent says to her.

"I know," she says frantically, "I had to see you."

"Where's, Agostino and Sal?"

"Over here! Hurry..." She runs forward ahead of them. Leading the way.


	44. 24: The Crew

THE CREW:

Months after the Stuanton Island Plaza incident. Many - actually - all of Tony's Mobsters had no idea how the incident ever came about. All they knew was that some Cartel was picking fights with the Mob. Everyone was completely healed, it was almost a miracle, Fox had told them. 'You guys are tough, any normal person would have taken twice as long to heal.' He was truly amazed.

Many of them were packing for Vice City. Where Trent figures he'll be smiling, 8-ball waiting, and Fido loathing. Fidelio couldn't care less, he just hoped they didn't set him up with Fido. He got along more with Fido more than anyone else, the problem was whenever they were put on a job someone almost always ended up dead. It was just something that came along with the mixture, that's what happens when you put two combustable elements together.

Trent was pulling guns out of a bag, typical Mafia outfit on for the trip, along with his overcoat. He looks up at his daughter. She sits across the coach parellel to him. Wearing a mock suitjacket T-shirt, and black jeans, her legs crossed across the cussion. Watching him unload the bag, dumping hundreds of guns onto the floor.

"The airport has horrible security, but I'm still not bringing anything with me... Agostino told me - and I've been noticing, that you're a little more used to the gunfights. Like they don't phase you as much?"

She doesn't say anything she just nods.

"You're more used to it?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty used to it." She says nodding again.

Trent moves forward sitting next to her, he puts his arm around her. "Listen Sam, I know I do all of this -" he waves his arms at the guns, " - crap for a living. But I don't think you should get too used to it. You know what I mean? I don't want all of this 'stuff' for you. Some of these guys," he says pointing behind him, "are third, _fourth, _generation. See that? It's crazy. I don't want a second generation..."

"Dad, I can make decisions for myself."

"I'm sure you can," he says certainly, "but I'm hoping that's one that you don't make."

She stairs at him for a second, taking it all in. Then she reaches over and gives him a hug. "I won't."

They let go, "Promise me."

"Yeah, okay dad. I promise." She says laughing.

"Alright..." Trent stands up and moves towards the door, and 8-ball. "Hey 8-ball what's up man..." -

- Samantha head up the stairs to talk to Agostino, barefeet scrunching on the carpet. She skips to his room through the hallway and makes it to the door smiling. She puts her hand on the doorknob and it turns, without her moving it. Sal steps out, and takes a look at her through sunglasses. She can't see his eyes, the glasses were inpenatrable.

"Where you goin'?"

"I'm going to see Agostino."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

Sal grabs her by collar and pulls her through the hallway, "Hey what're you doing?"

He drags her into her room, then he throws her on the bed and shuts the door. "What the hell is your problem!" she says angrily, getting up.

"You're not going anywhere. Shut your ass up, and sit down.

He looks through the crack in her door and then locks it. She stands up shaking and moves towards the door. "I'm not afraid of you." She says bravely.

"Good. I wish you wouldn't be, it'd save us an awful lot of fuckin' time, but right now, you're shakin' like a leaf. It's offending me, I'm not gonna' hurt ya'... I sure as fuck ain't gonna' touch ya'. Matter of fact, the reason... that I'm so offended right now, is because that's why I brought you in here in the first place." he puts a cigarette between his lips. Then he shakes one out of the pack and aims it at her, "Want one?"

"No." she says shrugging one shoulder awkwardly.

"I don't suppose you've got a match... ah, doesn't matter I got one." He reaches inside his pocket and lights his cigarette. "You know?..." he says starting his point. "this whole goddamn thing between you and Agostino is really startin' to get under my skin. - Now I talked to him about it already, but I've never said anything to you, and I didn't wanna' mention it in front of your father 'case he's some kind of idiot who can't tell - or kill my brother if he knew or somethin' like that - but I have to mention something to you... 'cause this is important.

You're not in love with my brother, and while some might think it's okay to have a little crush on him or whatever, he's not a cuddly teddy bear either. What if I told you he was a child molester?"

"He's not."

"I know he's not, the question is: What if I told you that?"

"I don't know..."

"Would you've believe me?"

Her mouth opens but she doesn't say anything.

"No, you wouldn't, because you just said, 'He's not.' but you didn't _know. _Did you? He could have been, and you still trusted him. I know my brother, and I don't think he would... but **don't** let him touch you. 'Cause whoever touches who first, I don't give a shit who it is, my brother's loosin' teeth. Don't forget that." he opens up the door and takes one step forward -

"Sal..." she says almost teary eyed, even worse than before, "you scared me."

Sal's head turns towards her but he doesn't look, or turn his head all the way around, "...Sorry." his final word and then he shuts the door behind him, leaving her to herself. -

- Trent gets the rest of his stuff ready downstairs, when he's completely packed up he's approached by Agostino, coming down the stairs. He looks kind of jittery and nervous. Trent's cold stare wasn't helping any. Agostino's nervousness seem to highten with every breath.

"Trent... before you go. To Vice City, I gotta' ask you something."

"About?..." Trent says waiting.

Agostino lets out a breath, "Your daughter."

"Okay..." 'God if he says what I think he's gonna' say I'll shoot him right here and now.'

"Well you see, she's a great girl. I love being around her, It's a lot of fun and she's real energetic. We get along really well, and I think if you asked her what I'm about to ask you she'd say the same thing."

'Is this motherfucker serious, he's going to ask out my daughter to my face, he's fucked if he finishes this shit. Just walk away motherfucker, walk away!'

"I love her to death."

'That's it I'm gonna' fuckin' kill'm!"

"Can I be Samantha's godfather?"

"What?" he says letting out a breath of his own, "Uh, yeah... Yeah sure." he shakes his hand, "I'd be honored." Trent realizes now that Agostino's not a weirdo. Somehow he just gets this impression from him now, like he's genuine and serious. He gets a wave of relief that Agostino might not be such a bad guy. He seemed sincere enough when he asked.

"Thank's Trent. She's like a daughter to me."

"Hey me too." Trent says laughing. " - Before I let you go, I've got to ask you this. There's nothing weird going on between you two is there?"

"Of course not, well I think she might have a little high school crush on me, but I look at her like a daughter trust me, I'd never look at her that way."

"Okay..." Trent says nodding his head, "Okay... I believe you. I'm trusting you Agostino, it takes a big man to gain my trust."

"See ya'." Agostino goes back up the stairs and Trent turns to 8-ball.

"He scared the fuckin' shit out of me man." Trent says to him.

"Yeah but he sounded serious to me."

"Me too."

"For real?"

"Yeah, - No I just got this feeling you know? Like he wasn't lyin', and I believed him. I just felt like everything's gonna' be cool."

"I got ya', I got ya'. I suspec' you'll be able to rest easy in Vice City."

"Well if I get a phone call late at night, I'm gonna make one of my own."

"Yeah I know what you mean, come on Fido," he says to Fido; lingering in the background. "Let's go Dog."

They open up the door to leave and a mobster stands in front of them with two Yakuza's to his left. Everyone draws their guns, Tony, Trent, Fido, 8-ball, and Fidelio. Aiming them at the Yakuza's.

"Who the fuck are you?" Fidelio asks the mobster, "and who the fuck are these bitches." The Yakuza in the middle is a woman, with long hair, young and strong, the man to her right is similar in physical strength, neither of them have weaponsl, and they are both dressed in dark blue suitjackets without ties. The woman has a long black jacket on and a pair of sunglasses.

"I am Amaya Kaida of the Yakuza. Our organization, as well as yours and maybe a dozen others have been threatened by some Colombian Cartel. I came here to offer services to you."

"Why would I want help from a Jap?" Tony asks, angrily.

"As forthright and intelligent as you are Mr. Cipriani, I wouldn't have expected you to bring race into this. How are we any different from you other rival families."

"That's my goddamn point! Now are you going to sit there and act like an idiot or are you going to tell me what the fuck you're going to do for me?"

"Oh, so now you want a Jap's help, I see." She says slyly with a smirk on her face. "The Forelli's have been through check too, the ones who were on the Cartel's hit list have fleed except for this man." she points to the mobster next to her. "Lucio he's actually a 'distant' relative of the Forelli's, he's barely got their name, and there's almost no blood connection. They left him for dead, amazingly he's here today to try and save the business of the people who've betrayed him. I find this to be most valiant."

"He's a fuckin' Forelli, goddamn Tony. We got the enemy on our porch and we haven't fired a single shot."

"And I'm asking that you consider avoiding it entirely. Listen, rationality tell you that someone offers you their best, you take it. I'm offering you three."

"...Who's he?" Tony says pointing his gun at the other Yakuza.

"My bodygaurd Makoto."

"What's his specialty?" 8-ball asks. Looking at him.

"Gun retrieval. He can find and get anything you want, at almost no cost, he's great on jobs too, but he's too valuable I try to avoid using him as much as possible."

"You said three guys." Tony says, "Where's the last one?"

"You're looking at her."

"You? What can you do?"

"Sharpshooting's my specialty, I can hit anything, from any reasonable range... but only if it's a moving target."

"Why moving?" Trent asks her.

"Damned if I know, that's just the way things are. Take it, or leave it.

After a long silence they decide to put their guns away.

"You seem to know an awful lot," Tony says, "So maybe you know that we've got a goddamn flight to catch."

"Of course, so do we. We booked the same flight... Tony." They all walk away from Tony's mansion. "The Limo's are waiting. I trust we'll talk on the way there."

"Probably," Tony says grunting as he gets into the Limo, "now that you've peaked my interest... Amaya."


	45. 24: Max

MAX:

Max Payne wakes up, his body aching, head throbbing. Max was so tired he didn't feel like he should be able to move at all, but he has to. He pulls himself together, as his vision comes back, he shakes out the raindrops, and natural blur, trying to get himself straight. He touches his face with his fingers, and feels an excruciating sting. He looks at his index finger and notices a little bit of blood. Then he wipes his mouth on his sleeve. He looks down at himself, everything's dirty.

'What the...'

Max takes a look around. The salt fumes of ocean fill the air, the feel of mud beneath his feet. Max looks forward as far as the eye can see... ocean. Down at his feet, wet sand. He looks behind him, a huge rocky structure, above it he hears the roar of a car speeding away. He looks at the jagged rocks again, then himself, touching his face and jacket. He realizes they must have thrown him from the top of the cliff. His injuries are minor, and the most irratating one was the hole where the dart had been, irratating as it was, there was an upside. The tranquilizer had made up for his lack of painkillers, and he wouldn't have an attack.

'Wait a minute, I've seen this place...' Max's cellphone rings, he reaches into his pocket and flips his phone down, "What?"

"Good Max, I was wondering how many times I'd have to call before you'd answer. Amazingly you picked up on the first one."

"Donald?"

"Bingo, If you'd been anyone else the punishment would have been much more severe, but I think you're too celebrity to kill."

"Whatever you say Donald." Max spits some of his blood onto a rock. And begins to find a way up the cliff, searching methodically.

"I'm serious Max, you're too famous for me to kill. I'm going to be straightforward with you, I want you to let Tony Cipriani and his boys slip away."

"Yeah..." Max says putting his foot up on a rock, he hoists him self up and continues to climb, it was just stable enough for him to climb with one arm. "why would I do that? You just said I'm too famous to kill, my family was murdered years ago. You guys all think the same way right? Then that means you must be running out of ideas."

"I can get pretty creative I assure you."

"Sure you can." Max says sarcastically, he pulls himself up to the top of the ledge and lays down, to his left is a hill with a Mansion on top, former Leone estate.

"Vivisective surgery."

"Fuck you!" he slams the phone shut and chucks it through the air, it goes soaring above the ocean waves.

'BOOM!' Max watches water rise and seperate, like being moved by some magical force, a yellow fireball seeping through the air plasmic lights setting the ocean aflame. Then the silent aftermath, falling embers and thick water droplets, rising waves.

' 'Too famous to kill' my ass!' Max thinks to himself, watching his own death for the hundredth time.

Cheating it was his forte whether he knew it or not, he didn't know whether it was good luck or bad luck either. Things were too screwed up with him to know if life was worth living. Nothing to loose, yeah right everyone has at least one thing to loose, and that one thing would keep Max, to take down the killer of his loved ones. Life.

Max always does what he says he's going to do, he couldn't die yet, he hadn't arrested, Liberty City's leader. Tony Cipriani, for Liberty City survivor. And he hadn't gotten Trent, or his boys. He was back at square one, he takes a look at himself.

'Well more like square _negative_ one...'


	46. 25: The Crew

THE CREW:

Amaya Kaida and Tony's limos pull up, in front of Tommy Vercetti's house. Slowing down, everyone had gotten a pretty decent view of the city from the drive over. After the plane ride, most weren't paying attention though. Tony sticks his middle finger on a button and leans his head out the window, lifting up his glasses. The peach concrete gate of the house was the first thing he noticed, complimented by palm trees and green grass. The sun glowing, reflecting of the limo.

"You gotta' be fuckin' shittin' me... Damn.... This is some nice shit. Alright, Everyone go do whatever the fuck you want. I'm gonna' go in here and talk to Tommy. I here he's got a bank heist planned. So you might see some shit go down. I don't know if you're involved or not yet. Just keep your options open. Amaya? Are you going with me or them.

"I'll go with you - Makoto and I. Lucio'll go with your men."

"Good enough."

Lucio gets out of the Limo that he was in, with Tony, Makoto, and Amaya. He knocks on the other's limo and 8-ball rolls down the window.

"What'do want man?"

"Tony wants us all to stick back, he's going to go in alone, and he says we can do whatever we want."

"Oh, okay I see..." 8-ball thinks for a second then looks up at Lucio, "What're you gonna' do?" he asks taking a chance to get a feel for Lucio.

"Uh, I know a couple places down here. The Malibu's a nice place, but it's kinda far from here."

"Malibu huh?"

"Yeah."

"Good place?"

"It is now, it's kinda nice, play good music, you know? You'd probably like it. It used to be kinda' stupid."

"A'right, I'll proll'y check that out bro, thanks."

"Hey no problem man."

As Lucio turns he slams into a man wearing Mafia attire. Only their suits had grey undershirts.

"Mr. Cipriani?"

"No."

"I was asked by Mr. Vercetti to tell Tony's men that their cars are parked."

Lucio scratches his head, then he leans his head over the mans shoulder, whispering in his ear, "What cars?"

The man pushes Lucio with his left hand, and with his right gestures in front of him, placed next to the sidewalk outside the Vercetti Estate are four parked cars.

A modern blue Banshee, a green eighties version, a black Sentinal, and a brown Blista Compact.

"Tommy gave us these?"

"For your stay here... sir."

"Tell him thanks." Lucio reaches in his pocket and fiddles around dragging out a wad of cash. "It's all I got but..."

"He won't take it."

"Really?" He says raising his eyebrows. "Well then, You can have it." He pats the guy on the chest and starts to walk away.

"No, I get payed enough as it is."

"You serious?" Lucio takes a good look at him, then sticks the money in his own pocket, "You really are serious. Damn, you motherfuckers must be makin's some good due. Shit, I'm about to get me some. Alright well I guess we'll be seein' you around doc."

The other Mobsters get out of the Limo and start towards their cars, Lucio runs for the Banshee.

'BLAM' a gunshot rings out and everyone ducks, except for Fido. Lucio turns around looking at Fido, who has his pistol pointed above his head, staring at him. Fido sticks the gun in his pocket then walks over to the blue banshee. Getting into Lucio's face, he opens the door to the Banshee, and gets into the driver's seat. Finally leaving him alone. The car starts up and Lucio goes around to the passanger side he gets inside and he's greeted with a gun in the face, he takes a breath and gets out, slamming the door he walks towards the others.

"Did you see that shit man, I thought he was going to fuckin' kill me."

"Maybe he doesn't like Forellis." Trent says.

"Tommy don't neither," 8-ball says, "he..." 8-ball slits his own throat with his fingers, "sshhkk... killed his motha'fuckin' boss, and you _know _that asshole was a Forelli."

"Yeah don't think nothin' of it Lucio. Fido just like's Banshees." Fidelio says. "You should have seen what he did to this guy who keyed it one time."

"What did he do?"

"Beat his fuckin' head in with a tire iron."

"Goddamn! All that shit over a car?

"You better believe it." Fidelio says getting into the Sentinal. He gets in the back seat, Lucio gets in next to him, and Trent and 8-ball take the front.

Trent puts his hands on the wheel. "Nobody's taking one of the other cars?"

"Are you shitting me?" Fidelio says, "Those cars are fuckin' ugly." he says, then mutters, "Goddamn Blista Compact..."

"Hey," 8-ball says, "Blista Compact's a good fuckin' car. Rob a bank with that shit, cop'll chase you down Little Havanna with a goddamn Infernus, son of a bitch still won't catch you. Handles like a Korean prostitute."

"Where, we going?" Trent asks starting the car. "Wherever it is I gaurantee that Fido'll follow. So make it a nice place."

"Malibu." 8-ball says.

"Malibu? We're not going to fuckin' Malibu what're you crazy!"

"No **The **Malibu you dumb fuck, It's this fuckin' bar Lucio told me about."

"Is it good?"

"I don't now, **_he _**says it is, but obviously I haven't fuckin' been there have I?"

"Okay well, _The _Malibu it is..." he says pulling the car into the road."

Trent, Fido, and 8-ball sit at one table, smoking cigarettes, and talking about American crime movies and whether they're accurate. Lucio and Fidelio sit at the bar, ordering drinks. Two guy walk up to Lucio getting in his face. They're both black guys wearing red, the Bloods had, been running through Vice City like a virus for a couple years. They had their sites set on taking out Tommy Vercetti's men.

"Where you from dog?"

Lucio just glances at him, then takes a sip of his beer. "Listen, guys, I'm not here to start shit, I could have gone down to some other bar for that."

"Well we're here to start somethin' with you. Where you from?" the other one says pointing at him.

"Liberty City."

"Liberty City? Goddamn I hear only pussies come from Liberty City dog."

"Hey!" Fidelio stands up from his seat, "Last time I checked, he wasn't your fuckin' dog..."

"Look at this shit homey, we got a fuckin' comedian over here. He might not be my dog, but I'll turn you into my bitch..."

"Sorry I don't swing that way motherfucker. - Tell you what I got an idea, I bet you..." Fidelio takes out his wallet, slides the money out cooly and starts to flick them off of each other one by one counting them, "five thousand dollars, that I can kick your ass in less than one minute."

"Man that's some bullshit!"

"Why's it bullshit, 'cause your gonna' get your fuckin' ass kicked like a schoolgirl."

"Alright fine..."

"What the fuck you waitin' for?"

"Waitin' on you."

"To do what? Sing and dance? I already told ya' I wasn't a fag."

"Take your glasses off."

"Take my glasses of -- fuck you okay? I like my fuckin' glasses, you prick."

The guy takes his first swing forward, and Fidelio ducks under it punching him in the stomach, then he slams his foot down on the back of the man's shin, knocking him on one knee he clocks him in the back of the head with his left fist, knocking him face first into the ground. Fidelio gets on the mans back and starts hammering away on the back of his head, then he stands up and kicks him in the right ear.

"Fuckin' bitch!"

The guy jumps up and slams a fist into Fidelio's crotch, he gets all the way up and kicks him in the stomach, all the while a small group of people in their area, had heard the fight over the music, and had crowded over to watch. The Blood takes the upper hand and slams a bottle over Fidelio's head, Fidelio falls onto the purple carpet, his glasses falling off of his face.

"I won."

Lucio, gets up, looking at his face you couldn't tell but he was angry, his shirt was covered dark, his drink spilled across his suit. He takes a good look at the Bloods on either side of him. He takes his glass and slams it into the face of the man on his left, the one who'd faught Fidelio. He slams his hands onto the other blood gripping his jacket, he pushes him towards the stage past some girls, he finally slams him into a the back wall of the place.

He punches him four times in the face then lifts him up off the ground, using his forearm to hold the man up by his throat. The Blood was bigger than Lucio, but he lifted him like it was nothing. He headbutts the Blood in the nose hearing it crunch, then he lets him fall to the ground.

Lucio takes a second to get a grip on himself, then he straightens up his suit. "Fucker."

Fido helps Fidelio up off the ground, Trent laughing "Man Fidelio that glasses thing was fuckin' funny man, I thought you'd let Sal's crazy shit get to you man."

Fidelio takes his index finger and flicks his glasses onto the ground, "Man fuck these glasses man!" he says stomping on them.

Everyone laughing, they leave the Malibu Club. Driving around touring through the City.

They drive through an area not too far from the Airport. They hear lots of noise screaming, shooting, sirens, and helicopters.

"What the fuck's going on?" Trent asks gawking.

"Liberty City bank's around here," Lucio says, "remember what Tony'd said earlier about a bank heist."

"Yeah?"

"This must be it."

They park outside watching, instantly the doors swing open, and a man in a blue cleaner's suit comes out, dark brown hair floating behind him as he runs, a 'Jason' mask strapped to his head, a Spas-twelve shotgun gripped in his hand. He bolts straight down the steps of the building, and to their amazement, he seems to have no problem running straight for the cops. They show incredible resilience, not firing a single shot. Instead the try to grab him, no one gets a good grip. The Jason mask wearing criminal jumps up onto the hood of a cop car and sticks the shotgun in an officer's face and pulls the trigger. Blowing his head to peices. This time the cops have no problem firing at him.

Luckily for him he doesn't get hit. "Who the fuck're you clowns goddamnit?" his voice is deep, raspy, and squeeky almost all at the same time. It fit with his personality, it gave him power and energy along with rugged and sheer violent nature, all of which applied to his actual personality.

"I'm -" Lucio says.

"I could give a fuck who you are just hurry up and get into the helicopter."

They glance over and see that a red Helicopter actually had landed not far from them.

"I'm not getting into that fuckin' thing they're gonna blow it out of the sky!" Fidelio says frantic.

"No they won't, these guys on the ground aren't that crazy it's the one's in the police copters you have to worry about."

They all get into the helicopter and it flies off with one officer firing rounds at them.

"FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!" The man says laughing, "He didn't hit shit."

"Tommy Vercetti?" Trent asks.

"That depends..."

"My name's Trent -"

"No that's not what I meant."

"You run things around here righ?" 8-ball asks looking out the window.

"Then no, I'm not Tommy Vercetti, at least I'm not the one you're looking. Chances are you're looking for my dad. He'll be back at our place talking to your boss."

"That's where we're going?" Fidelio asks him.

"Yep."


	47. 25: Tommy I

TOMMY:

Tommy Vercetti sits in snug in his leather seat across a black granite table facing Tony, with his feet on his desk, and a pair of sunglasses with 100 UV protection tag still clinging to the side of it, he looked nothing like an authority figure. That was one of the things he wanted, catch 'em off gaurd, make 'em think you're a loser then come on strong. He knew Tony a little bit already, so he didn't have to act, but in a small sort of way he wasn't anyway.

He remembered back in the eighties when he'd first come to Vice City, his favorite shirt to wear was a Tropical short-sleeve, which he still had, he was a bit of a pack rat, even the chair he sat in was from that time period, he'd had a change of dress though since that time and thank god to that in his opinion . His physical appearance remained only slightly off, he was in good shape for his age and the only thing that looked different about him was his hair, it was gray with black streaks. At this point he could care less, he considered himself to be the Clint Eastwood of American gangsters.

Tommy had a nack for observation, he saw that Tony was a lot more confident than usual. Sitting across from him wearing an expensive black suit, with a long leather coat and a Zip gold watch wrapped around his hairy wrist, sunglasses of his own that he bought at a cheap department store for the trip. Tommy was impressed, it never seemed like Tony was confident in the least.

"So how are our boys lookin' Tony?"

"Mint, these guys are fuckin' animals. You can send them on any job anywhere and they can get it done -" He snaps his fingers, "like that. Especially the mute - he wears the same type a thing every day - can't miss 'em, anyway, he's the baddest. Hand him a knife in a roomful of guys with machineguns, and he'll come out holdin' two of his own. Then I got this guy Fidelio, lets just say if you put the two of them together you're going to have one fucked up crime scene. There's this new guy, Trent he's a badass too, only problem is he's kinda' sensitive. -"

"- Whoa, Whoa, wait! Sensitive, you can't be a badass and be sensative." Tommy says it in denial, because truthfully he almost fit the bill. When his friend Lance had betrayed him some years back he hated him for it, hate doesn't come out of nowhere, he felt cheated, and every time he bought a business he thought he'd give up on crime, but all of them were crooked. Probably the hardest blow was the ice cream place. He figured he was going to get some money - they'd sell ice cream to kids and everything'd be alright. Yeah right, it was a crack house. Even the printing press had a temporary downfall on his feelings for his business choice, the memories of his father made him hate printing dollars on that press. Those feelings lasted until three million dollars was placed on his lap, then he felt a whole lot better.

"Well Tommy I would hesitate to - but - I could call myself senstive."

Tommy stares blankly at Tony for a second then cracks a smile. "You'd probably kill me if I told anybody you said that huh? Tony, I wouldn't exactly call you a badass either, you're good for the business and you're tough, but you aren't a badass."

"You think you are?"

Tommy takes his feet of his desk and walks across the carpet towards his bar, pouring himself a drink, he takes ice cubes from a small freezer in his desk and chucks them into the glass. "Yes."

"Okay whatever, then there's 8-ball. My explosive expert."

"The black guy?"

"Yeah."

"8-ball, how come that reminds me of something?"

"Bombshop?"

"Yeah! You're right, that 8-ball's bombshop place."

"He owns a whole chain of them in North America, for some reason the cops just ignore the place."

"Wow, bombshops, I am impressed. It takes a lot to impress me Tony."

"I know."

"Only kid we gotta' watch out for is this guy Trent. He might show up and turn bitch, I've got to protect my business." Tommy sits back down in his seat in the same positing, tossing his glasses on the table.

"Don't go there..."

"Look at my eyes," He takes his drink in his left hand and with his right uses his index and middle fingers pointing back and forth between his eyes and Tony's, "You think I'm fuckin' around. If this kid screws up, you're a deadman. And trust me, it doesn't hurt me to say that..." They sit in an awkward silence for a moment. Then Tommy finally speaks. "That it? I saw more people."

"Yeah, that was more of a last minute thing Amaya Kaida showed up on my front doorstep."

"I already knew she was coming, I just didn't know anyone was coming with her."

"One of them's her gaurd, the other one's a Forelli."

Tommy raises his eyebrows. "A Forelli? Is he outside right now?"

"Yes. -"

"Outside this door?" Tommy says standing up, seeming only slightly irrate, he points at the door.

"Yeah."

Tommy pulls open a drawer in his desk and sets a black and silver handgun on the desk, then he takes a clip and loads it in, pulling back on the hammer and the slide, he steps around his desk. Tony steps forward and pushes him against a wall with both hands.

"Wha're you doin' Tommy?"

"What the fuck does it look like I'm doing I'm gonna' kill'm now get the fuck out of my way."

"Why're you gonna' kill him? 'Cause he's a Forelli? He's got no problem workin' with me. Maybe we can trust him you know? Besides if we can't... Keep your friends close right?"

"Yeah right." this seems to calm him down he puts the gun in his belt and straightens his hair, as Tony lets go of him. "You're right, he's not Sonny, he's just a relative. Pre-judgment is bad for business."

Tommy walks past Tony and swings open one of the giant wooden doors. Then he kicks Lucio Forelli in the stomach knocking him onto the wooden railing of his staircase, he pulls the gun from his belt and sticks it in Lucio's face. Lucio is in the sitting position, staring down the barrel, holding his pulsing abdomen.

Tommy gets in his face, "What the fuck're you doing here huh?! Come to get revenge for your family you little snake, I should blow your goddamn head off!"

"Fuck you! I don't know what you're talking about."

"Listen to him." Amaya says from his right, the gun momentarily shifts to her.

"Shut the fuck up Amaya! This is private."

"Well you're certainly making it a public spectacle." Her bodyguard says from his left.

"Who the fuck asked you?" Tommy can just feel the squeeze of he trigger, but he hesitates, "Why should I trust you? I want a serious and straight answer right now."

"Because I'm going to be working with Tony!" He blurts out almost instantly. "Why would I work with him?"

"To get to me!"

"No! No! I swear I swear to god. I'm the blacksheep of the family Mr. Vercetti. They treat me like dirt, I'm just trying to make a name for myself man. You know? No one ever has to know I worked with you, when they respect me. I'll walk away and forget about you, Tony, and Amaya. But right now I'm in such a big hard place that I just need to get out of. PLEASE! Don't kill me while I'm this misirable, give me a chance to fix things! I got nothin' left."

"Alright... ALRIGHT!" he says again stopping his banter, "You're one lucky motherfucker but I'll trust you for now... If you get respect and decide to come after _me_... there'll be nothing of you left."

Lucio nods his head and stands up, Tommy presents an outstretched hand and Lucio becomes hesitant.

"Can I trust you or not?" Tommy says.

Lucio reaches over and shakes Tommy's hand, Tommy takes a second, wondering about pushing Lucio off the side. The feeling fades and he lets go. "Alright kid, welcome to my place. I want to talk to You alone in my office, then the other two after."

Lucio turns his head giving Tommy a sideways glance, the 'are you up to something?' look. "I'm not going in there, alone, with you, after what just happened."

"What just happened... was that; we started to trust each other... but fine, if it'll make you feel any better, here. Take the gun, you can have it." He truthfully hands the gun to Lucio, who takes it without blinking, keeping it drawn at his side as he walks into the room.

Makoto, looks at Amaya as the doors close. "Do you think he'll kill him?"

"I don't know what to think Makoto. The man is unpredictable."


	48. 26: Max

MAX:

Max stands in front of a payphone in the Red Light District, with the phone pressed tightly to his ear, wearing a blue dark blue T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. The only article of his original clothing left is his leather jacket, smeared in dirt. He talks to his boss on the phone. Either trying to get back up or leave entirely. Either one would have made him happy.

"Look, I don't have any idea what to do down here. I'm outgunned. Also, Donald Love's disappeared as well as Trent and his buddies."

"Then obviously you're not outgunned. If everyone's disappeared."

"I don't even know WHAT the FUCK I'm doing down here anymore!"

"You're doing your job."

"I'm not even sure what that is anymore either..."

"Are you done?"

Max takes a deep breath, "Yeah."

"Good, I found some information for you about a house up in Shoreside. There's some eye witnesses that say they've seen him there, you can check it out if you want."

"Yeah... Sure... Okay." Max hangs up the phone and pushes his hair back in frustration. No help was coming and he wasn't going home, on top of that, he wasn't going to quit that would end his job completely, he just wanted to get this job over with and go back to New York.

The phone rings and Max picks it up, it's his boss again giving Max the address to the house in Shoreside Vale.

Max pulls up in front of the house, it's not quite a mansion, but it was really close. He shifts the key in the ignitions stopping the engine. He stares forward for a moment then glances at the house, he grips the steering wheel, he glances at the house again contemplating his next move. He bats down the door of the glove compartment and reaches for his gun, he opens up his door and steps up, walking slowly and casually looking around as he walks to the front door.

He gets in front of the house and stands at the door. He gets ready to knock then sees that the gun is still in his hand, he sticks it in his jacket pocket then knocks on the door. It swings open quickly and a man with long hair opens the door, smiling. The smile quickly fades and he goes for his gun. Max is faster and puts it right in his face.

"You work for Tony?"

"Yes, I do."

"Put your gun down on the - no never mind hand it to me, now."

The long haired man hands him the gun with the barrel facing away from Max. Max takes it in the other hand then points behind the man, "Is there anyone else in there?"

He nods his head.

"Who?"

"My brother Sal, and a little girl."

"Why do I recognize you?"

The man cracks an awkward smile, "We've met before..."

"What's your name?"

"Agostino."

"Doesn't ring a bell. Okay go inside."

Agostino turns around slowly and goes inside.

"Why'd you open the door so quickly?" Max asks him.

"We thought you were the pizza guy." Agostino says turning to him.

The girl comes down the stairs in her pajamas, "Is the pi..." she freezes looking at Max, he doesn't even look at her. His eyes are fixated on Agostino.

"Where's your brother Agostino."

Agostino stares back at Max, unflinching with his hands on his knees. "I don't know. He's here somewhere, I'm just not sure where."

"You're not sure?" Max says unconvinced.

"It's a big house." Agostino snaps back.

"Is the little girl yours?"

"She's Trent's you remember her."

Max's head shifts to her, "Oh yeah, I do. Okay Agostino, I want you to call for your brother, and then I want you to take this phone and call your buddy Trent."

"Okay... You do realize that Trent has caller ID?"

"Good even better. Now... call your brother."

Agostino tilts his head to the right, but keeps his eyes on Max, "Hey Sal,"

A casual "Yeah." comes from the back room near the kitchen and dining room.

"Can you come in here for a minute?"

"Sure..." Sal steps into the room holding a shotgun pointed at Max's forehead.

"How'd you know."

"I'm not a fuckin' idiot." Sal say glaring at Max through his sunglasses.

"Alright," Max says with his guns pointed at them both, "Call Trent."

Agostino picks up the phone and dials a number. The rest of them stand like statues. You can hear the dial tone. "Trent.. No, but you're not going to believe what's going on. He's standing in front of me with two guns - him and my brother are having a stand-off in the living room.... He want's to know where you are? I think he wants to talk to you too."

Max gestures for the phone Max looks at Sal, "Make one move and I fire a shot into your brother."

"I'm watching you too."

Max speaks into the phone but again keeps his eyes locked this time on Sal, with Agostino lingering in the corner of his eye. "Trent...... Where are you Trent?.. If you don't tell me I'll shoot your friend." A lie but it sounded true enough, "........ Where are you? Look I've got your friend in front of me with a gun in his face and I'm not moving 'til you tell me where you are... How do I know if it's true....." Max puts the phone down, "Trent asked you to tell me where he is."

"I don't believe you." Agostino says.

"I'll hand it to the girl and she'll tell you if I'm lying and that's it. You trust her right?"

Agostino bites his lower lip hard then nods. "...Yes."

"Tell your daughter what you just told me." Max hands the phone to Samantha. "Shake your head, yes or no?"

Samantha nods.

"Vice City." Agostino says from the couch.

"Alright," Max says. "I'm leaving." Max moves backwards through the door as he does accidentally bumps into the pizza guy, who a stares at him like a freak, scared out of his mind "...Pi.. Piz... Pepperoni Pizza."

Max slams the door with his foot, then takes out some money handing it to the pizza guy, "They're inside, guy. And change your pant 'kay?"

Max smiles to himself as he confidently walks to his car. "Vice City here I come..."


	49. 26: The Crew

THE CREW:

Trent and the others stand in front of Tommy's door, with Amaya and Makoto standing at their left. The doors open and Tommy walks out with Tony and Lucio. Tommy steps forward before Lucio completely steps out the door and shakes his hand. Then his eyes shift to the other members of the group. He takes a good solid look at each of them before speaking.

"Lucio and Tony, you wait outside, the rest of you are coming with me I want to talk to you."

Amaya steps forward, "Are you going to disarm us? We've all got guns."

"No," he says with a vote of confidence, "I trust you." As a polite gesture he gets Tony to hold the door open for them.

When the door closes he sits down in his desk and smiles wide, "You guys, are probably the best single group I've ever been able to put together, I mean seriously," he says laughing, "I didn't think it was possible. Ah, you've no doubt guessed that I brought you here for a job. What you didn't know was that it would be more than one. Chances are you'll use all your skills especially 8-ball."

"Wha'does that mean?"

"Remember the bank that my son came out of?"

Tommy Jr. raises his hand as if they didn't know who he was talking about. A cocky smile spread across his face, a spoiled version of an early Tommy.

"We're going to spend some time planning to rob them again. He couldn't take much by himself and they'll be easier to rob. People say security's tighter, it's bullshit. Who wants to rob a robbed bank. We'll hit'm in a couple of weeks."

"What're the other jobs?" Fidelio asks.

"Well..." Tommy says taking a cigar out of it's case, "One other one for sure, I'm not sure about anything else."

"How so?" Makoto asks scratching his beard.

"Well you know Augustus Armando? The guy who's been fucking all of your businesses in Liberty? He's got guys everywhere. But that's okay 'cuz so do I. It's hard to rival those guys, so we gotta' hit 'em where it hurts..."

"Businesses." Trent says closing the point.

"Exactly. I've had a pretty good history with the Cubans down here. They own a merchandising shipment off Vice City docks. That is they used to. The Colombians got it now. I have an old... aquaintance within' the Colombian ring of Cartels. Right now him and Augustus are in like this," he says crossing his fingers together, "The minute I mention what's going on, they're dead!"

Fido listens carefully, questionably, he had little respect for Tommy, believing he hustled his way to the top instead of working, he was unknowingly misinformed.

Trent's mouth opens before he speaks, pausing, "Would your aquaintance be able to find out where Augustus's hiding?"

"It'd be hard but he might be able to, he's probably got a thousand safehouses with a thousand look-alikes to take bullets for him."

"Why don't you have that?" Fidelio asks him.

"'Cause I'm not a fuckin' pussy!"

Trents cellphone rings and he looks at the little window, "What the fuck?"

"What?" Tommy says looking at him.

"I gotta' take this call, hold on a second."

Tommy lets him take the call no questions asked and takes the chance to light himself the cigar. Trent paces across the carpet with the phone pressed tightly against his ear, the crew watching him.

"Max Payne!?" A long pause before Trent speaks again, "What does he want?" Another pause, "Max you -! I'm gonna kill you!.... Fuck you........."I swear to god you're a dead man." He freezes taking a look at the group, "I'm in Vice....... Tell Agostino to tell you." As he waits he puts the phone down.

"Max has a gun to Agostino I had to tell him where we where?"

"Who the fuck is Max?" Tommy Jr. asks.

"Police officer from New York."

"The fuck you needed to tell him! Goddamn are you nuts, what're you gonna tell him next dad's plan!"

"Shut up!" Trent places the phone next to his ear again. "........ Okay... Yeah Sam, just tell Agostino to tell the truth, no one'll get hurt." After some time the phone goes dead.

"Max hung up, he's coming to Vice City. He chased me all the way from New York... Now he's coming to kill me."

"I'd like to see him try. If you had the confidence to tell him where you are I'm sure he's not much of anything."

"You'd be surprised." 8-ball says with a bursting short sigh.

"Are you guy going to be ready to do this or what?"

"The Job? Yeah we'll be ready."

"Remember to watch out for the cop. Tommy's going with you. 'Specially since now he knows the place now."

"Any chance you might jump in?" Amaya asks cracking her knuckles.

"Not since my youth." he eyes Amaya's body for a minute, "there's a couple things I'm still pretty good at though."

"Yeah right..." She says thinking aloud. Then she turns around to walk out the door. All of them get up Fidelio does a wave gesture with his hand before he leaves. Tommy Jr. goes with them.

8-ball stops and turns around, "I heard that movie... Grand Theft Auto: Vice City was based on your life. That true?"

"No. Lance Vance and Sonny Forelli betrayed **_me_**. Not the other way around."

Fido stops at the door of Tommy's office, and turns around, 'Is he lying?' He doesn't think anymore about it. He'd decide from experience whether or not to trust Tommy. He leaves closing the door as 8-ball comes out, the last one.

Tommy Jr. gets right in everyone's faces, pointing his finger at them. "Don't FUCK this up! You got it!?"


	50. 27: Tommy II

TOMMY II:

Tommy Jr. stands at his dads bar with his hands up on the counter staring at the men he was going to be robbing the bank with. He was less than impressed. He'd heard their reputations, all of them involved a time when they were either captured or in some kind of extreme pain. If they couldn't even look after themselves why the hell should he fuckin' trust them with his life. The frown on his face showed them all his scepticism, he wanted them to see it. Their incompotence wasn't getting his way. He'd rather shoot them all than worry about being arrested.

His eyes shift to Lucio, "You fuck this up and it'll be worse for you than it will be for these guys." he says pointing across the rest of the row at the bar.

"Hey man," He holds his hands up, "I'm cool okay."

"No you're not! Shut up!" Lucio closes his mouth. "Now listen up all of you. I'm only going to say this once... I don't know you and I don't want to, to tell the truth you can all go fuck yourselves, I'd kill you all right now if I was in charge, but since I'm not I have to deal with you. Another thing I need you to get straight is I don't need your goddamn help, I've done this before so you'll be following me - not the other way around. We clear."

He watches them all suck up their pride and nod their heads, then he continues, "Good... If this guy Max shows up, I don't give a fuck if he's a COP or fuckin' SUPERMAN... You blow the cocksuckers head off! Now for all of you stupid motherfuckers, is their anything I need to repeat, or say slower, so that you can understand!?"

Everyone stares at him with a look of disgust or miscomfort, but they don't say anything. "Good... Now, on with the plan."

Simple Plan:

The plan was, that Fido and Lucio would be in one Banshee following Tommy Jr.'s, 8-ball, Trent, Amaya, and Makoto would be in a Sentinal, they'd all split for the getaway vehicle manned by Fidelio. The getaway vehicle will be ...

"My dad's speedboat. Now, whoever heard of bringing a speedboat to a bank robbery?" Tommy says eyeing the group behind his dads house. Most of them ignore him taking in the view. The house had two pools in the back and a view of the ocean. It looked like paradise, the grass was the green and the sun shone like gold above their heads. Lucio was the most appreciative of it, the water glissined blasting little rays across the ocean from reflecting sunlight.

Tommy can tell they aren't paying attention, he claps his hands together. "Hey you fuckin' idiots get it together huh. We all know how nice it is out here."

"It's too bright out here man, can't we go inside?" 8-ball says with his hands over his eyes.

"No, shut up. Fidelio'll be waiting here with this boat, we'll all get on and get back to right here." He says pointing his fingers where he stands, "If you don't make it tough luck."

"Is it going to hold us all and the money?" Trent asks him.

Tommy takes a good look at it then responds, "I tested it with seven people before, it'll hold up, but it'll be slow."

"We got eight people." Fidelio says looking around.

"I know..." he pauses, "don't worry about it everything's gonna be fine. If it doesn't work out their'll be boats there you can take - I'll have my father arrange somethin' okay? Good enough? Okay..."

"Where are we waiting for the boats, there's no water near that bank."

"Oh their's some, but I'm happy you asked that question or you all would'ave fucked up." he says laughing, "You wait for the boats down by the stadium, I'll give you a map. It'll be behind the stadium. It's up to you to shake the cops and take as many shortcuts as possible. If I hear cops that aren't helicopters then I'm leaving your asses behind."

"What about helicopters?" Makoto asks.

"Don't worry about that I've got somethin' to deal with it." he says half mumbling. "In case you hadn't guessed you'll be driving to the stadium... You get caught, again tough luck."

"I'm gettin' sick of all this every man for himself crap you spittin' man, back in Liberty we watch each other's backs." 8-ball says pointing his thumb back and forth between himself and Fido. Fido nods his head in approval.

"Listen I'm not a fuckin' babysitter. You shouldn't expect me to watch after any of you. You're not in diapers anymore, this is Vice, Liberty may be a walk in the park, but this is where the big leaguers hit home runs."

"Listen kid I don't give a fuck who you think you are but Liberty City is a fuckin' hellhole and if you think any differently about it I'll drag you their and watch you piss yourelf!" 8-ball raves angrily.

Tommy Jr. Looks older than he is and acts smarter than he ever will be, his position of power put their entire group at risk, but 8-ball would rather get his head blown off than risk his integrity. "Don't let this pretty setting here fuck up your vision. What your seeing through those eyes is not what's here, you won't believe some of the shit you'll see on these streets."

The only reaction 8-ball could muster was a laugh, 'As if this fuckin' place is worse than Liberty City.'

"Are you all ready?"

Everyone nods their heads at Tommy Jr.

BankheistSacrafice:

They'd sharpened their plan and decided they were ready. Lucio pulls up in a huge dark red van, getting out he says happily, "I got it."

"Good." Tommy says getting in. 8-ball, Amaya, and Makoto follow. Trent stops for a minute before getting in and looks one more time across the swimming pools at the ocean; Fido and Fidelio were there in speedboats. Trent gives them a little salute and then jumps inside.

The van ride to the bank seemed like the longest. The whole time all Trent could think about was Samantha's birthday, he hoped he'd make it back on time. It would be ridiculous if he didn't and he'd regret it. This seemed longer than his bus ride to Liberty, he thought he'd be their forever. With his forearms rested on his knees he just stares at his folded hands, looking down. Someone must have sensed his uneasyness because 8-ball looks up at him.

"You a'right man?"

"Yeah, I'm fine...'M just thinkin' that's all.

"I hope your thinkin' about the job 'cause if you fuck this up -

"-You're gonna kill me. Right." Trent says without looking up. His only impression of Tommy was that he had double the hard talk as his father and none of the balls. All bark and no bite. The heist would tell him one way or the other whether or not Tommy-two was going to be a team player.

"We're here." Tommy says raising his voice. "Don't forget any of this shit!" He says looking across the group. He grabs himself two Colt Pythons and becomes the first one out the door. Lucio, pulls out a forty-five and get out. Trent and 8-ball had nickel plated Desert Eagles with black grips; one each out of a two set. Makoto has two nine-milllemeter handguns and Makoto, and Amaya has a black pump action twelve gauge.

"Lets do this." She says getting out of the van. They all wear black outfits with 'Jason' goalee masks - also black. Excpept for Amaya, who - bravely - chose to wear no mask at all. They had parked the van on the street in front of the bank. -

- A single group goes inside consisting of Trent, Tommy, and Lucio. 8-ball stays in the cold dark streets of Vice with Amaya and Makoto, watching his breath tear across the cold air ahead of him.

"Damn, gets cold in Vice City at night uh?"

"Yeah," Makoto responds, "I've been here a couple times on business - short business - and I can say it gets cold here a lot surprisingly. Especially during the winter time."

"Why do we have to wait here?" Amaya says gripping her cold shotgun.

"We're waiting for the cops. If that's going to happen."

"Why wouldn't it?" Amaya asks him.

"If a miracle falls out of the sky..."

"Don't they need you in there?" she asks pointing.

"Oh yeah, shit! Hold on I'm s'posed to do somethin' first." -

- Trent holds his gun up to a security gaurd. "Give me the goddamn gun right now!" The security guard hands it over. The bank must have at least ten hostages inside not counting regular staff. Tommy has his guns up to a man at a desk behind a cash register screaming his head off at the man for not opening.

"What the fuck's taking so long! Hurry the fuck UP!!" Tommy's irratation builds, then 'BAM' chamber turns and the desk explodes, so does the man's face. "HOLY FUCK! God, you shot me!" The man moans in pain, holding his leg.

"No shit! O-pen the re-gi-ster." The man opens the register in twice the speed, then squirms around screaming in pain, his kneecap busted to bits. To Trent's surprise Tommy Jr. reaches across the table and slams his heavy gun into the man's head. "Stop it! You fuckin' idiot - One more sound, I swear to god, one more sound and I'm going to put a bullet in your head. The man feeling he has no choice quiets down.

Trent runs over to another woman and asks for the bank manager.

"I don't know where she is? She's gone."

"Gone?"

"Yes - yes, I think t-t-t-that she's gone. She l-l-le - heft." She says hypervantalating.

"Okay..." He says "we had a way to deal with this anyway." He swerves around as a Security gaurd comes down the steps and blasts holes through a glass cubical wasting him in front of everybody. "Jesus Christ!" he says wide-eyed, "The son of a bitch almost had me..."

As he calms down he turns his attention towards Lucio, who looks calm and focused. Suddenly something disrupts his attention and he charges head on like a raging bull at a cashier. He lifts up his mask, his blank expression showing.

"What the fuck were you doi - stand up - what the fuck were you doing?" The security guard was on one knee, now he stands all the way up. "What were you doing?"

"Nothing I was just..."

"Just what?" Lucio says truly curious. He bends down and looks where the man was facing. "Ah shit..." Lucio says with a slight frown. Coldly he pushes the teller down onto his knees and kicks him face down into the tile. 'BAM'. He puts a bullet in the back of his head.

"Holy shit!" Trent screams, "What the fuck're you doing!"

"Son of a bitch went for the alarm. - Hey!" Trent watches in a Deja vu like trance as almost the exact same scenario plays out again: Lucio runs forward and points his gun at a guard laying on the floor. "Were you going for that gun? Did I see you go for that gun?" 'BAM' his blood splashes across the tile.

"What the FUCK! Stop killing people!" Lucio had to be snapping, he seemed so mellow before that it was impossible for him to be this cold, now he seemed entirely apathetic.

They hear the gunplay begin outside, and 8-ball comes in obviously shaken up. "I got the C-4. Everything going good."

"Not completely." Tommy says pointing to one of the corpses.

"Shit, what the fuck happened?"

"I wouldn't worry about it if I were you." Tommy says. "Just hurry up and open the safe." Trent can see that Tommy keeps his eye on Lucio. 'Of course he would, a loose cannon Forelli in the presence of a Vercetti.'

8-ball runs up the steps to the safe, he comes down not a minute later. "DOWN!" he screams at the top of his lungs jumping to the floor. 'KKBBMMM!'

Tommy stands up looking at the railing his eyes squint slightly, "Wouldn't that do something to the money?"

"Not the way I had it set up." 8-ball assures him, "Come on everybody."

"What about the hostages? Lucio asks.

Tommy turns his head. "Bring 'em. They can help us with the first of the heavy lifting." -

- Amaya and Makoto stand outside the bank blasting holes into cop cars. The stand-off was forcing Amaya up the steps towards the inside of the building. "Their fucking us up. We might have to go inside. Goddamn it! Where are they?" She cocks her shotgun and blasts a hole through the front windshield of a cop car. Another car comes barreling up the street towards them and gets halfway up the steps with the right side facing them. Makoto busts open the windshield and reaches inide. The cop and he point their guns at the same time. The cops blood explodes across the left windshield, bursting from his ear. They use the car as armor. Firing at the cops.

"This is taking longer... than I expected." Makoto says breathing heavily.

8-ball bursts out the door with three bags of money, "RUN!"

The three of them run towards the left side of the building, a ramp and a-lot which harbors a car for each of them. A car each would be faster and easier to shake the cops. They get in theirs, Amaya hears the ring of constant gunfire building as high as the sky. She turns the key and races off. -

- 'Fuck, Fuck, Fuck! What the hell's taking them so long?!" 8-ball says gritting his teeth he watches the direction of the front entrance. His car still in the lot. He spots a suit, and a leg turned away from him, the person was obviously stopping to fire at the cops. 'Come on! Come on!' The man turns around, and 8-ball recognizes Trent. Then... 'YES!' Lucio and Tommy Jr.

He presses the button on the cartridge in his hand. 'CKKKKBBMMM! BMMM! BMM!BMMMM!'

8-ball had wired the whole front outside of the bank with high-explosives. Several of the cops cars had become toast in the explosion. He takes a deep breath taking in what he just did. As he does he lifts his head. "I don't believe it." through his rearview mirror he spots the dark image of Max Payne. "FUCK!" As he starts the car, seemingly hundreds of bullets rip through his back side and front windshields. Max firing on him.

He peels out and swerves past Max into the main road leading to downtown. -

- Lucio's car swerves uncontrollably, down the main road. One way street to downtown Vice. "Fuck!" He screams slamming his gun on the steering wheel. 'BAM'. His front windshiled shatters and glass splinters fly at him, his car swerves off the road and slams into a large building. He stumbles out of the car with his ears ringing, he tries to read the concrete sign in the grass but his vision is so blurred he can't make it out. He staggers into a large parking lot. He sees a neon green Infernus parked in the lot. He heads towards it.

"Freeze!" He hears a cop scream. He turns around and raises his gun at her. 'BLAM' his shoulder explodes, but he keeps his gun up, 'BLAM' she fires another shotontheleft above his thigh and just below his ribs. He can't take the burning pain. He stumbles back facing away from her, then he turns back around to fire a shot gritting his teeth, 'BLAM' the final bullet slides through the bottom of his chin, snapping his head back it rips through the other side and jerks backwards unnaturally, hitting the concrete. Lucio was their first casualty of war. -

- Trent and Amaya's cars almost suffer the same fate, they slam into the windshield of a market. They both make it out nearly unharmed, Amaya getting the worst of it. Makoto pulls over his car to help them. Drawing his guns, a VCPD cruiser pulls up in front of Makoto, as he takes Amaya across his shoulder. The cop gets out of the car.

"Don't move! I've been instructed to use deadly force."

"Use it." Makoto says angrily as he helps Amaya into his Sentinal.

'BLAMBLAMBLAM' The cop fires three shots at them. Makoto covers Amaya the bullets hit him in his back, one of them in his shoulder also.

Makoto falls to his knees, but turns himself enough to reach behind him, the burning holes in his back only reminding him why he was turning in the first place, 'BAM' A bullet forces its way through the officer neck and out of the back-top of his head. His gun 'clicks's as the metal smacks into the concrete his arm hanging loosely. He stumbles backwards, with his left leg retracting outward. Trent lifts him up and throws him in the back of the car and jumps into the passanger seat.

"Don't fuckin' die! Don't you fuckin' die!" He says watching the road with a trance-like focus. "SHIT! It was supposed to make a turn here somewhere!" He swerves the car to the left, he was practically talking to himself, Amaya was still drowsy and Makoto was bleeding to death. "Fuck! THERE!" He says as he spots the stadium. He turns into the road, and tries to drive his car through the grass 'island' stadium monument. His car gets stuck, back wheels burning up on the concrete. "GODDAMN IT!!!" He says with burning frustration. His face is red and veins pop up across his head.

He sees Tommy Jr. run from the meeting point towards a stopping cop car, he holds a long thin black object in his left hand, a machinegun in the other. He fires the machinegun through the roof of the car then takes the thin black object, Trent realizes it's a sword and watches Tommy unsheathe it like a samurai and slice off the light on top of the cruiser, laughing.

"Tommy!" Trent says as his door slams, "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I always wanted to do that!" Tommy says stepping slyly off of the cruiser.

"Amaya and Makoto are hurt. I think they might have arrested Lucio."

"Amaya and Makoto, leave 'em."

"Fuck you."

"I said do it now."

"If you can stop to chop the light off of a cop car then, I can get these two to the boats."

"Okay... you've got five minutes. If within' those five minutes I see a more than three police **boats **the rest of us are gone. Comprende?"

"Yeah..." Trent says with his heart racing he helps Amaya get off her feet and takes her to 'his' boat. Then he runs back and drags Makoto lifting him in the position you would if someone else held his feet, though no one does help, and Trent drags the top heavy Makoto by his armpits towards the boats. Fido and Fidelio both com forwards on opposite sides of Trent and fire Spaz-twelve shotguns at oncoming police cars. One of them explodes into a fireball and flies past Fido's left side into the water.

"You did it Trent." Tommy says looking at Makoto, "I think he's dead." he takes a look at Trent, his black shirt is ripped a white T-shirt underneath stained with Makoto's blood. Trent quickly gets down to check, "No he's not dead. You're dad has medical - like doctor people right?" Tommy nods his head.

They all stay in the same boat the four of them, 8-ball, Fidelio, and Fido, get into the other's. They hear an unmistakable 'pat-pat-pat' sound getting increasingly louder, the space around them pounding as well they could feel it around their faces.

"FUCK!" Trent yells looking into the sky, "They sent a helicopter."

"I told you I'd deal with it..." Tommy opens up a heavy metal case and sets down a tripod on the metal floor then he takes a large pipe and jams it on top. Trent can see the club-like tip sticking out of the top of the 'pipe'.

"Say hello to my little friend!" Tommy screams as the missle shoots through the sky, a blazing black smoke reef behind it, it slams into the bottom of the helicopter and they watch the whole metal heap of it burst into three fireworks displays of its own above the stadium.

"Holy fuck..." Trent says as the boat glides across the water. The rest of the ride was silence, the cops lost them.

They had won... with sacrafice.


	51. 28: Amaya

AMAYA:

Amaya stands strong with tears pouring through her eyes, she watches them pull bullets from Makoto's back. They take the pliers and stick it in causing the skin to stretch, the doctor pulls the first bullet out as it makes a disgusting slipping sound, blood starts to flow out and they cover it with clean white cloth. Standing there in Vercetti's office watching them pull bullets from Makoto's back on a leather couch made Amaya wonder how Makoto could possibly live through this.

"Is he dead?" she asks, her voice evading sadness.

The doctor looks up. "No, I'm pretty sure he won't die, but I don't promise people anything." He continues to work pouring alcohol on the wounds. "I know this sounds crazy," he says still working, "but over the years Tommy's collected some of the best doctors. You don't get any worse service here than at a hospital. We would move him downstairs but he might have a neck injury and I don't want to move him."

"What's downstairs," she says wiping her tears, "and a neck injury from what?"

"Well what's downstairs is basically where Tommy built a small doctors office in a hidden room, and he might have gotten an injury from the car or boat ride. I'm sure he's fine - just a precaution." Amaya nods her head. She turns around to find Tommy Jr. standing behind her.

"What're you cryin' for isn't he just your body gaurd?"

"There's no such thing as 'just a body guard' Tommy."

Tommy's father comes into the room, "Fido and Fidelio just gave me the money. You guys did it... I don't fuckin' know how, but you guys did it. It sounded like over the scanner that they found Lucio dead. It's no wonder a Forelli fucked up, but at least he didn't get caught and spill his guts."

"Trent had to slow us down and drag these two to the boats at the last minute." Tommy Jr. says to his father. "We almost got caught."

"What kind of stupid remark is that!?" Tommy says angrily, "If you had left them behind they could have ratted us out anyway."

"Fine so he should have shot them."

Tommy charges forward and backhands his son in the face, "How dare you say something like that in front of her at time like this." he points his finger at him, "You need to stop acting like a fuckin' idiot. Trent told me about that thing with the police light, that was stupid! Don't pretend to be tougher than you are. If you think there's anything different about you than any of these other guys your wrong. You put yourself in this position by choosing this for a living. I didn't choose this for you, if you want to act like a god, why don't you go out there and do this stuff yourself without my help and see what happens!" He straightens his own shirt and calms down.

Tommy doesn't dare snap at his father, he just stares forward blankly as his father leaves.

Amaya leaves too, she goes all the way down the steps into the living room with everyone else, she walks past the bar and sits down next to Trent.

"How's Makoto lookin'?" Trent asks.

"Looking?" she says with a forced laugh. "He looks like shit."

"Okay... well then how's he doin' then?"

"The doctor said that... he would 'most likely' make it, and that's all."

"Are you worried." Trent asks looking into her eyes.

She notices and looks at him as well. "He's strong." That was all she needed. If Makoto stayed strong she was sure he could pull through.

"Good." Trent says. "Tommy told us we might have to do another job remember? You can hang back if you feel like it."

"No," her reaction surprises him, "the job he mentioned was a hit. Augustus Armando. If it wasn't for Augustus I wouldn't be here, Makoto wouldn't be bleeding, and Tommy wouldn't be robbing banks twice in a week. Why do you think we're doing this, he obviously needs the money to fight off Augustus' men."

The doorbell rings. Trent hears it and waits. Nothing. Then it rings again. "God doesn't Tommy have someone to do this for him?" he gets up and goes in the other room opening up the door. Two black objects are held out of focus from his face across from them is the face of Max Payne. "Hi Trent."

"How the fuck did you know where I was."

"You told me remember."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Where else would you be? I ask a cop where the Mafia is and I hear about this place. The funny thing is you weren't smart enough to avoid opening the door."

"You don't have a warrant."

"Yes I do. Remember? For your arrest."

'Fuck!' he thinks to himself. 'What the hell am I going to do now?' a long barrel comes from behind Max pointing at the back of his head. The weilder walks into the doorframe, and Trent's view. It's Tommy Vercetti Jr. with a double-barrel twelve gauge. He presses it against Max's head watching him flinch. "So you must be the infamous Max Payne... Hmm I've heard about you. Well..." He brings the butt of the gun forward slamming it into the back of Max's head they watch him fall down in front of the door.

"Well Trent we have discovered your problem, and we'll see what we can do. With a little luck we'll cure you within' the hour." Tommy Jr. says doing his best impression of a doctor, referring to Max as an infection. "This guy's like a cancer, let's treat him like one."


	52. 29: Max

MAX:

Max wakes up in a damp basement like setting, with tons of metal rolling countertops, with tools on them, like you'd see in a hospital. He turns his head to the left and actually does see a stretcher. The florecent lights up above his head shine blue across the room, burning his eyes and making him drowsy. He pulls at his hands, they move less than an inch. wrapped around his back, his elbows bent abnormally across a board behind his back... not a board, a back rest. He was tied to a metal chair. 'Fuck, metal.' he'd gotten out of this situation before but it wouldn't be the same this time, there was no way he was braking this chair.

Glass drawers with various drugs in them line the room, he felt like he was in the hospital from hell, a morgue for living people. He watches the door as it swings open and a young man enters the room. A shotgun at his side.

"Max Payne. It's a shame I don't know you, and it's a shame you don't know me either. What's not a shame is what I'm about to do to get rid of you. If I don't you'll fuck up everything, 'cause these guys out there couldn't get you... but I could."

"Got an asprin? My headaches killin' me."

"Aw, this must not be your lucky day."

"Tell me about it."

"Okay..." He says setting the gun down next to Max's knee, "I will. See this..." He pulls a black metal barrel closer to Max and reaches inside, he lifts up and drops different colored shotgun shells out of the it, green, pink, and yellow.

"What are those?"

"Shotgun shells. This shotgun, It's low caliber. Very low caliber, so don't be too scared when I put it too your face, you ain't gonna die when it goes off. What will happen though, is you'll wish... that you're gonna' die. These shells though, different colors, these are... persuaders."

"Of what?"

"Information Max. Each shell contains a different item; broken glass, needles, and these little M&M shaped metal beeds that have razor bladed tips."

"I hate M&M's."

"Hey we're gettin' to know each other. I'm sorry I haven't properly introduced myself my name is Tommy. In case you live - though I doubt that you will - I'm not telling you my last name."

"What a pitty I thought we were getting to be friends."

"What I want to know Max is who knows we're here. Each time you don't answer me, I'm going to take one of these shells out and blast it into your face, in the order that I told you about them."

"So that's glass, needles, and M&M's right?" Max says with a cocky smile.

"Yep..."

"Well come on," Max says, "do your worst. Nobody knows shit anyway, so you'll look pretty stupid. You might as well just kill me."

"Maybe later..." Tommy lifts up the shotgun and points it at Max's head, "You've got three seconds, one... two... three..."

The shotgun makes an airgun type sound and fires shards of glass through Max's cheek. "FUCK! FUCK! Fuck you!"

"Not friends anymore huh?" Tommy says screaming over Max's moans.

"I don't know any of the cops here. Who the hell am I supposed to tell. I just got here today!"

"Sure you did." Tommy pumps the shell out of the shotgun and it falls to the ground, next to Max's shoe. "One..."

"Two..." Max says mocking him.

"Three..." 'PSSHH' an explosion of needles shoots through the barrel into Max's face.

The stinging sensation was bad enough to tell the man anything, but Max wasn't lying he hadn't had time to tell anyone where he was going. The burning needles stuck tightly in his head, with blood barely being able to push past them.

"This last thing is bad enough to rip your face to shreds. I'm counting. One... two..."

"Three..." Max says, his tough guy attitude shining through. Nothing happens, Tommy lowers the shotgun.

"Fine, I believe you." Tommy says, "No sense keeping you here anymore. Ever hear of concrete shoes."

"I live in New York...." Max says spitting blood on Tommy's shoes, "What the fuck do you think?"

"Cute." Tommy takes a dart and jams it into Max's leg, pushing down on the plunger.

Max wakes up groggy in the back of a truck his hands are untied but his feet feel heavy, and constricted, held together by concrete shoes. The whole world was dropping around him, the sky seemed like it was literally falling on his head, and the only thing he could do about it was wait for it to end.

The personal apocalypse he had always thought about, and individuals end of the world. This was his, he'd cheated in the game of death, now Death was getting back at him for keeping too many winning hands up his sleeve, he was about to get his for all he'd done, death was going to cheat him right back. Right in the middle of an investigation, he was almost there, then a stranger comes a long and ends him, all of it for nothing.

He hears doors slam, on both sides above his head and a familiar voice. "You cold Dog. Yeah, I told you it gets really fuckin' cold out here at night.

The door at his feet clanks down and someone grabs the block attached to his feet dragging him from inside the truck, it slams onto the street, standing Max straight up. It's 8-ball and Fido.

"Will you look at this." 8-ball says smilin'. Fido nods his head, then 8-ball's expression changes, "I don't like killin' people, but you almost capped my ass to many fuckin' times. This shit isn't personal for me, it's my life."

Max stares coldly into 8-ball's eyes, blood flowing down his face and needles poking out like splinters, "You're about to take my life 8-ball... It doesn't get much more personal than that."

"I'm sorry man." 8-ball clubs Max in the back of the head with a rock and pushes him forward, Max tips over the edge of a railing next to a bridge and his feet being heavy, tip his body back to a standing type position as he falls, doing a full front flip. The concrete block hits the water. His left palm slaps onto the handle of a metal ladder - a maintenence ladder next to the bridge - the sound of a wet popping noise rings through his ears, as a burning pain passes through his shoulder. He had heard his own arm seperate unnaturally from his shoulder blade. He hangs on desperately while his shoulder starts to go numb. His whole body aches and shakes as he hangs loosely above the cold waters of Vice City.

He takes his right hand and places it next to his left one and struggles methodically to pull himself up a bit, it works and he swings his body smacking his shoulder into another one of the ladders handles, 'SPSLSH' it pops back into place, and he moans in pain, but laughs hysterically as he is about to make his escape. He takes his left hand and places it two handles above his head, pulling himself up he can feel the fire within' him and his shoulder got as hot a as a burning coal. He pulls again with his right hand. It takes him seven minutes to get to the top. Then he leans over the railing and shifts his weight forward, the concrete block on his feet pushes him faster than he'd expected and his face smacks into the concrete, the needles in his face twisting pulling and pushing in his head. His spin is bent unnaturally but he uses his arms to pull himself forward and the block on his feet falls off the railing and drops - with his feet - to the his right side.

He pulls himself forward more until his body's almost straight. Then he manages to pull himself up, he drops backwards resting his back on the railing, he pulls a cellular phone from his leather jacket, and dials the VCPD.

"Yeah, this is Max Payne..." he says out of breath, a wet sound to his voice, "....Yeah, I'm the guy you saw on TV. Listen this is an emergancy. I'm somewhere next to a bridge, in this city... with a concrete block the size of a buick strapped to my feet. I need someone to come down here and bring me a sledgehammer and a shotgun......... No, it's not a joke. Sure why not." they'd put him on hold.

Even when death cheated, Max was delt a winning hand, the last trick up his sleeve was his best. Max had saved himself from a dying nightmare. Or maybe death was just on his side.


	53. 29: Sam Agostino & Sal

SAM AGOSTINO & SAL:

Agostino sits in 'his' room straightening his black tie, it was the same usual Mafioso outfit, but it was a bit more expensive and less noticably 'criminal'. Sal on the other hand could look like a hardened criminal no matter what he dressed in. Their rooms were parallel, with the doors swung wide open, and the mirrors right next to the door. Sal was getting ready in his room to the far left of Agostino.

It was suggested that they go out, they were getting bored of tired old situations, and it was far from Sam's birthday nor Sal's anniversary, which sadly had to be celebrated without his spouse present. After a few months Sal would have saved up enough money and he'd spend three years with his wife on a beach in Hawaii. -

- Sam shakes her hands at her sides and looks into the mirror. She slowly and gracefully applies lipstick then takes it and puts in her red purse, which matched her dress, shoes, lipstick, and a ribbon in her hair. She removes her shoes speedily and skips into Agostino's room, turning as she walks in, "How do I look."

He takes a good hard look at her, "Are you sure you should dress that way?"

"What it's fine isn't it."

It was a full dress, but it showed a little more skin than he was expecting, cleavage, her entire back, and her left leg. Agostino takes a look across the hall at Sal, who doesn't even pretend to look away, his glasses pointed at both of them. Agostino turns back to Samantha, "Don't even play around like that, you can't dress that way it's not respectable, now come on go put some clothes on."

"These are clothes!" She says jumping onto his bed, she sits there like a little kid. "Why do we have to go out anyway, this is stupid, we could just sit here and watch a movie and order a pizza."

"Tony doesn't have any movies." Agostino says finishing his tie.

"He has cable..."

"There aren't any good movies on anyway I checked, and besides, don't you want Sal to have a good time."

"We could order a pay-per-view, _and besides_, Sal's not going to have a good time anyway..." She says.

"Oh yeah, and how do you know that?"

"'Cause his wife's not here." She says smiling, the smile slowly fades, "You can't be happy on your anniversary if you can't be with the person you love."

Agostino makes a turn looking into Sal's room and shouts, "'Ey Sal, what do you wanna' do?"

Sal picks a gold watch up off the counter and slips it onto his wrist, "... I don't give a fuck."

"You don't have anything in mind?"

"What? Fuck no, I thought you did."

"Well Sam doesn't want to go out, she wants to stay in and order a pizza."

"Whatever..." Sal says, he takes a few steps out of his room and the two of them hear him go down the steps.

Agostino's attention shifts to Samantha, sitting on his bed, "Why'd you get ready if you didn't want to go anywhere?"

"I thought we were." She says shrugging it off. "Now I don't have to wear those god awful shoes."

"You don't like 'em?"

"No, I do. They just hurt my feet. -"

"This TV's not comin' on by itself!" They hear Sal scream from downstairs.

Sam locks eyes with Agostino, he doesn't react, "Let's go pick the movie, Sal's a lazy bastard."

They head down the stairs to find Sal on the couch with a remote, his feet on the coffee table, and a cigar in his mouth. "I'm not good at picking movies anyway." he says tossing his unfinsished cigar, it flies three feet from his face and lands almost dead on in the ashtray. "Why don't you pick it." He says looking at Agostino as he blows his smoke.

"What about me!" Sam says taking fake offense.

"No way, you'll pick something like Underworld or whatever the fuck that was you were watching last time!"

"But I LIKE that movie."

"Yeah what was that other movie..." Agostino says thinking out loud.

"Which one?" Sal asks him.

"I don't know, we watched it like three weeks ago... Somethin' like that."

"Why would you want to watch a movie you just saw not too long ago." Sal says laughing.

"No," he says, "'cause it was a really good movie though."

"Oh..." Sam says, pointing, "I think I know what movie you're talking about, The Crow right."

"Yes." Agostino confirms, "Now that was a good movie."

"No fuckin' way..." Agostino says objectively, "I'm not watching any movie with any kind of love story in it, _or _any movie with people wearing tight black clothing."

"Why no love stories?" Samantha bounces into the room without them even realizing she'd left, she holds a glass of lemonade and takes a sip, "Isn't that kind of weird since it's your anniversary, we should watch a love story... How 'bout the Butterfly Effect."

"That fuckin' movie with Ashton Kutcher, that movie was gay I hated it!"

"You don't like anything!" Samantha says sitting on the couch slouching and pretending to pout.

"So sue me."

Sal suddenly stands up and kicks his brother violently in the back of his leg, the reverse of his knee, causing him to drop onto one leg. A bullet goes flying above his head and into the wall wear the closet leads into the kitchen. A Colombian hitman stands at the doorway, apperently trying to sneak his way in, he'd missed with his execuation round, he was given away, now he was firing indiscriminantly throughout the room. Sal prepared as usual, pulls a nine mil from his pocket and wastes him.

Agostino who wasn't prepared runs for the kitchen, he swings two drawers open and pulls a large crate from inside slamming it onto the tile, he reaches for a Police Issue Barretta. He grabs another and loads clips into both of them. Then he takes four ammo clips and puts them in his side pockets evenly.

He pushes his brother aside as he walks in, "There's more, be ready."

"How do you know?" Sal asks him drawing his guns towards the door.

"We're Nicos." Agostino replies with a smirk. Sal gives a slight shrug with his right shoulder agreeing.

Sam cowers behind Agostino, he turns to her, "GO SOMEWHERE SAFE!"

"NO!" She says clinging to his suitjacket.

'BLAM!' he fires a bullet into the sky "GO!" she doesn't move, and a shit-storm of Colombian gangsters rush into the room. Agostino and Sal fire rapidly sending bullet after bullet into the next falling gangster. "FUCK!"

'It's a fuckin' sucidide mission' Sal thought, 'they're sending their guys through to wear us down.'

A window breaks to the left, 'God,' Sal thinks, ' how many more of them could come through there. He bolts into the other room to take care of them.

Agostino stays focused, with his eyes burning holes through the front door, and his feet planted firmly on the ground. Agostino gets distracted by shots coming from the left of the house, a Colombian slips through firing rounds on him with a Desert Eagle. The bullet rips through the air and tears a seering hole in his shoulder. Blood sprays across the wall behind him - the closet wall - Sam gets hit with a warm spray as well and crys out, moving away quickly as Agostino stumbles backwards into the wall behind him. Sam distraught, falls on the floor. With the blood covering her face and left hand, she watches in terror as the Colombian pulls the trigger, Agostino's gun goes off right afterwards, hitting the Colombian in the center of the left ribs, he's hit in the stomach but remains standing.

In his bleeding moments, maybe it was from loss of complete thought, only one thought was able to enter Agostino's head; it wasn't a hit, it was a kidnapping, they were here for Trent's daughter.

He fires his gun three times hitting the Colominian in the leg, the forearm, and the the far left of his belly. Two more bullet come flying his way as well, his gut and his waistline, around his left leg.

Halfway to sitting position Agostino fires a shot a shot dead center into the Colombian's chest. The two of them hit the ground. The Colombians chest rises and falls at a rapid pace, as he tries hard to breath. Agostino crawls methodically towards the man smearing his blood across the hard wood floor. His right hand-gun the only one in his hand, he curls slightly, laying on his left side, he reaches into his pocket and sticks a clip inside. Sam has her hands up at the side of her face, shaking, not wanting to see, not wanting to hear. She balls them up into fists rocking back and forth. Agostino can hear breathing, it keeps him going, he takes a final lunge across the floor and grabs the Colombian by his belt buckle, sliding him across the floor. He slides all the way until they're face to face, then Agostino jams the gun his mouth and pulls back the hammer. "NOOO!" Samantha lets out a scream, 'BLAM!' the Colombians blood tattoos itself gruesomely onto the floor below.

Agostino's energy drops and he lets go of the gun, the bullets melt his flesh, inside he could feel his blood flow out like a running faucet, pouring itself onto him. It's warmth a grim reminder of just how cold he felt.

Samantha crawls across the floor to him, taking his head in her arms crying. She's able to lift him at the shoulders and above, tears running into his long hair. She looks into his dying eyes and plants a kiss onto his lips, then she breaks it crying over him again, holding him.

Sal's feet pound across the floor towards them, "Agostino this guy got away I think -" he gets inside the room, he takes one look at his brother and his face goes cold, his eyebrows shift downward to his glasses and he places the gun on his forehead. "Oh no... Oh no..."

The last Colombian comes rushing into the door he capitalizes on the mourning victims, pointing his gun at Agostino he fires a fatal shot into the top of Agostino's head. Samantha depressed, only holds him tighter.

Sal's gun snaps forward, 'B_B_L_L_A_A_M!_M!_' The guns go off simultaneousely, the barrels smoking. The two men fall to their knees at almost the same time. Bullet holes lodged in their heads, Sal falls after the Colombian. Dropping on his side, his eyes locked on the back of his brother's head as his pupils retract and the life within' him flows through the cracks.

The only thing left was a massacre, and a blood soaked girl who'd witnessed the death of her gaurdian angels.


	54. 29: The Crew

THE CREW:

The entire Vice crew shifts, like they got the seven year itch dead in the center of their backs. There was no escaping the tension, one member was hospitalized in an old mansion another dead. From one job alone, on top of that, now they were going to have to simultaneousley raid and hit one of the Countries biggest Cartels. Tommy Sr.'s tip source was the real deal, not only had he found the location of over half of Augustus' safe houses, but he was making a deal with the Russians in the Vice City area on the freighter. It wasn't just for Colombian coke though, a Cartel rarely makes a bodily visit for something so amazingly simple in his business, he'd send his lackey's to look after the coke for him. So why in the world was Augustus' Armando suddenly so interested in the Vice City frieght coke deal? Because a certain individual had come to collect the bounty on all of the Liberty City mob organization hits. With evidence to the proof of their deaths.

The 'evidence' were actually fabricated pictures of Liberty City's finest in Hollywood movie makeup. The idea was to stir up the belief that the mobsters were dead and walk away with the half million dollar bounty on each and every one of them. The bounty was collected by an outsider earlier in the day, brought straight to Tommy's desk via a Bitchin' Dog Foods factory truck. Vice was apperently Augustus' favorite place to stay, they'd gotten a tip that he was staying to look over the deals on his boat 'til four a.m. the next morning. The frieghter was equipped with an 'escape yacht' that could be dropped into the water with three other speedboats, the precaution was to protect a fat lounging Cartel, from the fire of enememies. It was the crew's job to make sure that these little precautions weren't good enough.

Trent sits tense on a couch in Tommy's office, his hands running through his hair. Fidelio next to him, calm and peaceful. Fido next to him, patiently sitting in his chair, he wipes dirt off of his pants legs. Amaya stands, pacing back and forth through the office. Tommy leans back in his black leather easy chair, a cuban cigar between his lips. Tommy Jr. sits the same way, but with his legs up on the desk, he also has a large cigar in his mouth.

Tommy turns to a pacing Amaya Kaida, "Want a Cigar?" His father leans forward and smacks the cigar out of his mouth, ash flies through the air and the cigar lands on the carpet in front of the desk.

"What the fuck you doin', you're not old enough for that shit anyway."

"Hey thanks for lookin' out for me dad?" he says sarcastically.

"Ah, shut up... smart-ass. Hey Tony? Pick that up for me will ya'?" Tony comes in from the hallway outside and drops the cigar in an ashtray.

"There you go Tommy."

"Thanks a lot Tony." he says respectfully. "A'right, let's get to it, my guy just came back from the frieghter in Vice City docks, he says that Augustus' is definately on the boat."

"So why didn't he take him out?" Fidelio asks.

"I don't want anyone else taking him out..." Amaya says angrily, afterwards she stomps over to the bar, and begins to pour herself a drink, she stops, "Oh I'm sorry Tommy, may I?"

"Oh, yeah sure, of course." Then he proceeds to answer Fidelio's question, "He's certain Augustus's in there but, he didn't meet him face to face. Augustus stayed in a back room were the pictures were shown to him by some of his men."

"Which back room?" 8-ball asks standing behind Fido in back of the couch.

"We don't know," Tommy replies, "they sent pictures through the entire back rooms of the frieghters. From one end of the hallway to the next.

"So he could be in any one of the those back rooms?" Fidelio asks as Amaya slides an entire cup of vodka through her.

"Yeah, no one said it would be simple. -"

Trent's phone rings, and Tommy Jr. looses it, "Ah FUCK... This is the second time, turn it off or I swear to god..." he says loosing his cool.

"No," Tommy Sr. says, "I don't think anyone calls Trent unless it's important... let him answer it."

Trent gives Tommy Jr. a look that says 'I would have answered it anyway,' and stands up answering the phone. "Hello... Samantha, What? What is it? What's wrong?....... Oh shit, fuck, Jeesuus fuckin' christ! What about you... Oh god, I know I'm sorry. Holy shit. How long ago was this.... You didn't try to go anywhere did you?" He asks torn and scared, "Okay... Alright," he says readjusting, "I'll call you back in a couple of minutes." He sinks back into his chair.

He sits in silence for a minute then 8-ball finally asks, "Who was that?" Trent lifts his coat off of the armrest and heads for the door, "I've gotta' go." Tony stops him. "Get out of my way Tony... NOW!"

"Trent, what happened?"

"I have to go to Liberty City."

"Why?" Tony's question causes Trent to sink back into his seat on the couch.

He puts his head in his hand and exhales deeply with his face hanging towards the floor, "Agostino and Sal Nico are dead." The room seemed silent before but now it was dead quiet.

"What?" asks Fidelio.

"You heard me..." Trent snaps back rudely, it wasn't out of anger, but frustration, he'd barely even turned to look at him.

"So why the hell do you want to go to Liberty?" Tony asks.

"JESUS CHRIST! Does this not make any sense to you! She's my fuckin' daughter! A-a-a-nd she's stuck -" He stands up "-she's stuck in a fuckin' house with her godfather, and his brother, and the men who killed them both, with no one watching her! You don't think I'm just a little bit concerned with my daughter safety?!" He says with his hand to his chest, "Well excuse me for giving a shit! I'm just her fucking father!"

"Sounds like your her fucking mother..." Tommy Jr. says under his breath.

"What?" Trent says glaring at him, "What was that?" He explodes, slamming his fist into Tommy Jr.'s face just under his nose,"FUCK YOU!" Tommy's chair crashes to the floor and so does the back of Tommy's head, Trent sends to more right hands flying to Tommy's face before he's pulled away by Tony and Tommy Sr.

"Listen Trent," Tony says reassuringly "You're not going to make it down there as fast as you want and that's a fact." Trent straightens his hair and nods his head, "and you sure as hell don't want to have to leave her there alone. I mean come on Trent, we're getting on a flight back to Liberty right after this next job. You might as well bag the bastards that killed the Nico brothers right?"

"You said I don't want to leave her there alone and your right, but what did you mean by that?"

"What?" Tony asks confused.

"What about from now until then!" He gestures a fake timeline with both hands impatiently. "Who stays with her?"

"I'll call a few of my guys, none of them are like the Nico's but I'll have to make sure she doesn't get a real asshole. How 'bout Fox?"

"The doctor guy? Can he protect her."

"Of course he can..." Tony says, "I'll call him right now." Tony gets on the phone and dials Fox. "Hey Fox....... No, no, no, no, no, I'd never ask you to do that. I've got a little job for you right down there... No it's easy. Look after Trent's little girl Sam, take her to a safehouse somewhere nobody knows about then call me when you get there... That's it.. alright bye.

Trent has his own phone to his ear, Samantha on the other end, "Yeah..." he says awkwardly "Fox is coming to pick you up, he's going to watch over you 'til this whole thing blows over. I should see you sometime tommorrow afternoon. Love you, good bye." He hangs up the phone, "Shit..." he drops the phone on the floor and sinks into the couch.

"Let's get this son of a bitch." He says to Tommy with a cold stare in his eyes, "Let's finish him off."

Personal Blood Money:

8-BALL:

Stalks through the cold Vice City winds with his back to the armrest of a ramp to the the main deck of Augustus' freight ship. A ski mask pulled over his face, he weilds a combat knife about the same as the one Fidelio had earlier fell victim to. A pistol with a silencer tucked in his coat pocket. For the occasion, just as the bank the day before, he was wearing all black. He crouches slowly, shifting his head, looking up the ramp. Nothing, so he continues up.

'Crrrk' he swerves around and fires a shot, the shot was muffled beautifully, but the gun was so much heavier. The bullet penetrates the throat of a Cartel, his blood sprays across his finger and the ramp below, and he hits the ground with a force. 8-ball, swallows, but his throat is dry, and his hands are numb. His heart was racing fast enough to beat a man to death. Doing this kind of thing alone was not calming or impressive, it was insane. 8-ball was against it, but like the others he saw no other way. He makes his way slowly up the wooden ramp, he felt like it was rotting underneath his feet.

He gets to the top, the moon full above his head, he could see dozens of huge metallic crates, likely filled with drugs or some form of decoy. He puts his gun back in his pocket and takes up his knife. He hears a silent, "What the fuck..." Come from behind him. He swerves around and springs forward launching the blade at the man, slashing his throat open, his blood sprays out across, 8-balls face and hands, even his chest. 'Jesus Christ, I didn't think there'd be so much of it.' he pushes the man, still struggling towards the railing of the boat the man comes forward grabbing 8-ball's face, as he does the mask slides off 8-balls head into his hand. The man's head hits the boat before he plunges into the water. 8-ball realizing how much noise the splash had made hides in the shadows of too four towering crates, two on each side of him stacked like legos and two more stacked behind him. He didn't know how many more were surrounding that area. All he knew was that he'd boxed himself in, but the way he saw it was that, he only had to shoot in one direction if he was spotted. He was sure he wouldn't be, he couldn't even see his own hands.

Two more Colombians appear near the one he'd killed, at first their technique was nearly impenitrable, but soon they broke, foolishly. Now both of them were straining to see what had fallen into the water, side to side. 'They're making this too easy.' he was thinking it but he was persperating, his heart was pounding, and he constantly wanted to jump into the water and rid himself of this responsibility. He doesn't, instead he sneaks up behind the two men, a gun in his left hand and the knife in his right, the gun pointed at the back of one man's head and the knife pointed at the side of his second victims neck. He stands behind them patiently like a statue, he prepares to strike on instinct.

The 'gun victim' spins around this causes, 8-ball to flinch, but instinctively he also reacts, the gun goes off hitting the man obscurely in the head, ripping through him, the knife in his right hand jerks towards him and pierces through the front right of the Cartel's neck, he pulls it out and his two victims fall overboard.

He he blows on the barrel of his smoking gun, at the same time wiping blood off of his knife, 'Solid Snake eat your heart out.' he thinks to himself, 'I'm a multitasker' He pulls a radio from his left pocket. "These are getting closer and closer as I go along, I can't stand this much longer. It'll take a miracle if I can get this done without killing anyone else. He sneaks into one of two small rooms at the top of the frieghter, he picks the one closer to the back of the boat. He finds a doorway leading downstairs. "I found it..." He says speaking into his radio. They'd agreed that it would be better if they didn't respond to what he says.

He had found it, Augustus' Yacht and the three other security boats. As he gets through the small arched opening of the stairway, his arm swings swiftly to the right and he hears the clang of metal on metal. His blade had gone all the way through a Cartel's neck and hit the wall behind it. His Colt Commando, still pointing at 8-ball's leg. The dying man tries to squeeze the trigger, but he's powerless. "Motherfucker..." 8-ball pulls his knife and the man falls to the ground, he hangs his head for a second turning away from the corpse. Then he get an idea and his attention shifts back to the body. 'The gun' he pick up the Cartel's Commando and slings it over his shoulder. Then he takes his silenced pistol and, walks through the room. He walks through the room, he plants a timebomb on the Yacht, as he walks to the next boat, inbetween the yacht and the boat he spots another Colombian all the way on the other side of the room. He puts to bullets in his chest and plants the next bomb. No time to loose, he moves on to the next to boats, finishing off a final Colombian in the process. The room harboring the three small boats - and the smallest yacht 8-ball'd ever seen - was farely big. There were probably more men in the room than 8-ball could see, he takes a final look around the room, but he doesn't want to know how many people could possibly be hidden in that room. Then he takes a remote from his pocket, and flicks the switch, the timer says: 2:00:00 and the milliseconds start to count down rapidly. He bursts up the stairs and opens fire at point blank range on a Cartel, using his Commando. He flies forward sprinting to the ramp. He fires at two more Cartels and hits them both, he makes it to the ramp so fast gunfire is never returned in his direction. He jumps into a bus parked out back with everyone inside.

THE CREW:

"What do you think?" Tommy Jr. asks 8-ball.

"I think..." he says his lungs burning, "I think it was too fucking easy, they didn't even shoot back."  
"Too easy is what we were going for" Trent says holding his shotgun.

"-No," Fidelio says, "They're just being cautious, they don't know where you are so they're not wasting bullets, their being smart."

They hear the boom of three explosions rip through the inside of the bus, their ears seem to cave in from the noise, like someone had wrapped plastic over their heads and turned a jet engine on. The whole bus rumbled, as well as the ground below their feet, their heads shaking uncontrollably, the boat was on fire, the entrance would soon be guarded and Augustus would be trapped like a bug in a roach motel... it was just where they wanted him.

Trent moves in with a shotgun full of both single and 'M&M's' shot shells alternating. Amaya has two Micro Uzi's with hollow-tipped bullets. Tommy follows behind them as they travel to the top of the freighter, his weapon of choice; an AK47 with a bayonette on the end.

The three of them storm up the ramp, firing like crazy. It was mostly Amaya's job to make sure that the ramp was kept clear. The other three behind her were to help keep any Colombians from getting off the boat alive.

8-ball runs into the street as traffic moves back and forth on either side of him, a garbage truck rides towards him and he fires a shot into the air. The truck swerves and slams into a striped sports car in front of it. The back of the truck faces the ramp, which convieniently was what 8-ball needed. He fires a couple more shots, and most of the streets pedestrians get out of their cars running for the hills. 8-ball jumps into the garbage truck, he slams the door shut and reverses into the ramp. Now he had a blocked entrance for the Colombians and a loading dock for him and the boys, they could take Augustus' money and load it into the back of the truck.

Amaya starts to pick off Colombians easy enough but there's a ton of them, her gun being lighter and quicker on the draw, made the Colombians huge Colt Commando's seem ridiculously oafish to carry around. Her reflexes and grace, were just a few things that got her where she was, her opinion was; no one could kill her - she had too much shit to do.

Fidelio and Fido, again both have Spaz twelve shotguns. They fire at Colombian on deck, they were smart enough to know not to aim straight for them, so most pellets landed in some pretty unusual places but they didn't care.

A whole army of them seems to charge on deck. Fidelio fires a shot and spreading pellets hit two Colombians, one in the forehead of a Cartel, two in the face of another, who falls in pain. Fidelio smiles, "I got an idea!" He runs over to 8-ball, "Is the boat sinking?"

"Those bombs were perfect man, no sinkin', the plan was to trap Augustus in the freighter."

"What about a grenade will that sink it?"

"This big mothafucka' HELL NO! 'Least I doubt it." 8-ball fires repeatedly at the Cartels on board the ship but doesn't hit many. "Fuck there's tons of them, they got the advantage up there!"

"Start throwing these me and Fido'll be right back." Fidelio hands 8-ball a shoulder-holstered grenades.

"What do you mean you'll be right back!"

Fidelio runs over to Fido and grabs him by his leather jacket, "Come on man." Fido looks confused, "Come on!" The two of them jump into a busted up Bullet and roar forwards at top speed. They swerve through traffic like a breeze and make it to an allyway in downtown Vice City, Condos on one side and a few huge garages. The total driving time was less than five minutes.

"Tommy's dad told me about this, here get in the elevator." They go through the front door and bolt past the lobby into a vacant elevator. Fidelio pushes the last floor and the elevator shoots up faster than Fido would ever want it to. The doors swing open, and Fidelio's surprise is slowly revealed to Fido.

"Well come on get in man, I know how to fly it. Some thug from Los Santos taught me." He hands Fido both shotguns, he holds the heavy shotguns firmly in both hands. The two of them get inside a blue and black chopper. They fly it back to the tanker, a warzone bellow them. It appeared that by turn of chance Amaya was in a simple position of power. Most easy shots, including one's on top of crates put the Colombians in position close to flammable barrels. They didn't want to get to close to Amaya so she was gunning them down like the son of sam.

Fidelio leans over in his seat, rotating the helicopter, it moves in a half circle, then he stops, Fido's door facing the carnage, he Fidelio screams to him, "SO, WHAT'DYOU SEE!? - OH SHIT! THAT'S RIGHT, YOU'RE NOT GOING TO ANSWER ME!" he smiles, "ANYTHING YOU NEED JUST GESTURE!"

Fido is crouched with a vary serious look on his face, he waves his palms toward himself. Fidelio understands and gives a small salute gesture, "RIGHT!!" the helicopter backs up slightly. Fido reaches in his pockets for single round shots, he tears a bunch of them from his pocket spilling them onto the floor of the helicopter and quickly loads them into the Spaz-twelves. He cocks them both and sticks them out of the helicopter's open door.

The tiny figures of Trent and Tommy Jr. sit on the boat, hiding behind two big steel crates, protecting them from a hail of gunfire by an apposing Cartel group of roughly twenty people. Fido immediately sees that taking the helicopter was a good idea, if they hadn't, there's no way that Trent and Tommy would have survived.

'Come on you fuckers...' Fido squeezes the trigger, and feels the gun recoil, pushing on his shoulders, the force was stronger than he expected but he hits a number of them. They scatter around and start firing at the helicopter. This of course leaves them open for Trent and Tommy, who come out of hiding and blast away. A group of about seven remains, Trent and Tommy descending back into hiding.

"WE CAN'T TAKE MUCH MORE OF THAT SHIT, YOU GOTTA' TAKE 'EM OUT!"

The top of the tanker shoots through the sky, and a majority of the Cartel group is wiped out. The few remaining are - of course - gunned down.

"GRENADE!" Fidelio smiles, "8-BALL YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"

They hear the sound of grinding metal churning, the helicopter erupts into a spasm, violently destroying itself. Sparks fly in through the door, and the copter tumbles like an acorn, twisting, the two of them hit the entire inside including the roof. They only catch glimpses of things, red metal, blue sky, green water, a constantly changing image, channel surfing through their minds. Fido slams into the corner where the roof bends to create the top of the door opening, his spine folding into the same bend. His head is spared injury but his back jolts, stinging numerous parts of his body. His teeth grit as the water swims violently towards hims, filling the spaces between his teeth, flowing through his mouth. Around him he can hear the sound of scratching metal. His head bolts frantically searching for any sign of Fidelio. Nothing - no wait... A red liquid cloud spills through the water towards him, dying the water. 'Goddamn it... Fidelio.'-

-Fidelio had lost control of his helicopter, he couldn't figure out what was going on, it all happened to fast, as the helicopter begins to tumble, he slips accidentally through the doorway, floating slightly above the falling helicopter as it descends he...panicks. He twists around, his left arm explodes blood spills across his face, from his chin to the top of his head. 'OH MY GOD!' he screams in pain, incoherent. His whole body becomes numb, and he falls into the water between the tanker and the street, his left arm torn away from him.-

- Tommy and Trent hide behind a huge metal carrier, who know's what was inside, but whatever it was, it was the only thing keeping the two of them alive. Tommy on Trent's right screams in his ear. "What the fuck's you're problem, run in there and shoot 'em!"

Trent leans over and tries to fire a barradge of bullets barely misses his face. He shoots Tommy a very confused look, "Why don't **YOU **DO IT!" he says sarcastically.

A blue and black helicopter tears through the sky, beating rythmically in their ears.

"Fuck!" Tommy says, "It's the Feds!"

"I don't think that's the feds..." he points as the helicopter backs up, and he watches Fido shove bullets methodically into the shotguns, then he leans out the window aiming, with an aggressive look on his face, he seems to blink and brace every time he fires. Trent turns to Tommy, "GO!"

"WHAT!" By the time the words were out of his mouth he's firing at the apposing Cartels, Trent standing next to him. He fires moving the gun horizontally back and fourth hitting the midsections of six Cartel's, their blood his prize, bolting across the floor of the tanker. Trent pumps the shotgun and it rips through the chest of a single Cartel, then he slides it back again, the shell clanging, the next spray is razor sharp pellets it rips through the faces of two Cartels. Another Cartel wisens up and aims his gun at Trent - he's not quick enough - 'BOOM!' he legs shoot back and his chin slams into the floor his crotch flowing blood. The two of them duck back into hiding.

"How many left?" Tommy asks reloading the AK.

"Like... ten... I think."

"We can take 'em!" Tommy stands up, Trent pulls him back down. "No, no, no, no, no. Look, look, look." He says pointing to 8-ball, who leans back and shoots his whole body forward hurling a grenade it clears, Trent entirerly flying next to him he hears it clang. 'BOOOOOOOM!'

The two of them slip from their hiding spot, **'B**R**O**T**O**T**M!**RTTRTTRTT!' their guns fire at the same time, hitting the last two Cartels of that group. They look at their guns, then at each other. A flash of light above their heads, sparks were raining above them, the helicopter's propeller had gotten caught in the tanker's crane. The superior structure of the crane tears the propeller to peices, and it starts to twist like a tornado. 'Holy shit.' the two of them watch someone com flying out of the helicopters door twisting dangerously close to the propeller, a wall of blood spews up and suspended in freefall, slowly rains down as the hellicopter falls between the boat and the street. Scratching the side of the tanker.

"Jesus Christ." Trent says in aw, "Who was that?"

"I don't know..." They hadn't moved they were frozen their, mouthes open.

"Oh my god... - Pull them both from the water - get 'em back to your dad's or something..."

"Yeah..." Neither one of them had looked at the other once, eyes fixed on the helicopter that was no longer visible.

Tommy starts to move away, Trent lifts his head, "TOMMY!"

Tommy turns to look at him, "What?"

"Get Amaya."

TRENT & AMAYA:

Descend into the inside of the tanker, a handful of their enemies blocks the entrance, their gunned down easily. They get to the back rooms, they move to the third to last door on the left side. "This one." Trent says to Amaya.

"How do you know?" She asks bracing her gun at the door.

"I got a feeling." They swing the door open, it moans, and nothing. -

'BOOM!' the wall explodes behind Amaya's head on the right, her hair is pushed back by the blast. Her hands push forward and she pulls the triggers, the Cartel, is torn down, and the shotgun slips from his bloody hand. A small group of men haul ass up the hallway away from them without firing. They fire at the men but don't hit any of them. The two of them go into the room. They see Augustus, in a Cowboy-ish hat packing a suitcase full of high dollars. He turns, as his eyes meet Trents, 'BOOM!' the flesh of his kneecap is ripped away. He falls on his ass, too painful to crouch on his knees. Trent aims the shotgun at his head.

Augustus peers at him a sorrowful gaze locked within' his eyes, "Why?"

Trent feels the anger build, "Besides the obvious." He says gritting his teeth, his muscles tightening. He pauses and loosens up, "You made this personnal."

"My son's got away, you can't kill me without giving yourselves into them eventually, think about it..." he says pleadingly, "I can make you rich, I'll forgive you for this if you spare me. Please."

"No one is spared, there are men outside right now Augustus. Your sons are dead." Trent watches Augustus' heart and hope sink.

Amaya takes a strong look at him. "Now you know how we feel." the last sentence before the two of them put an end to Augustus' reign as top cartel, spreading his blood.


	55. 30: THE END

8-BALL:

The crew managed to make it back to Liberty. Fidelio was transported specially, thanks to Tommy Sr., Tommy's younger self had agreed that it would be good for business to join their crew. He was impressed with the way they'd handled themselves back in Vice, and decided to tag along with them. He was reluctantly accepted into the group.

The flight was reletively smooth, most of them were laughing at what Fidelio had done; ten minutes before going to the airport, Fidelio was appoached by two thugs who claimed he owed them money because he lost in a fight. Fidelio angry and frustrated - and still weak - smiled.

"You want you're money?"

"Yeah."

"You want your money, you want your fuckin' money!" He reached into his suitjacket and pointed a forty-five at the main guy and fired three shots into his chest. Then he put the gun back, but when his hand came out he threw a fistful of Monopoly at the man's dead body. "There's your fuckin' money." and then he got into the car as the second man ran for his life. He turned to Fido who had his left eyebrow raised. "I knew I'd see those fuckers before I went back."

Fidelio had extremely low blood pressure, and he'd had some time after the incident to rest up. 8-ball had heard Tony say they were meeting up at Eddie's Auto Parts. 8-ball wanted to go back to his main bombshop in Harwood. It was also where his home was and he hadn't been there in awhile. Tony agreed to let him and Tommy go; who had said he wanted to go sight seeing. 'Good luck on that.' 8-ball had thought to himself, he couldn't think of a single good landmark in the whole city. Besides it wasn't exactly a tourist attraction. Amaya had decided that revenge on Augustus was good enough and backed out of the group entirely.

8-ball, now driving to his home in a bobcat provided to him by Tony's boys, answers a ringing phone in his right pocket. "Yeah."

"Hey 8-ball it's me Trent. I forgot to ask you about this.- Augustus mentioned his kids, three guys that got past Amaya and I..."

"Yeah?"

"You took care of 'em right."

"No I didn't see anybody, I was focused on Fidelio. Why?"

"Nothin' I can handle it."

Trent hung up, 8-ball looks at the phone and puts it in his pocket. 8-ball and Tommy had left before the rest of them, they'd all went to a restaurant near the airport. 8-ball couldn't help shaking the feeling that that call wasn't good. But Trent was still heavily gaurded. If they didn't need 8-ball's help than he wasn't going to call back and ask, if they needed him they'd call back. He pulls the truck slowly into the used car lot, parking his car next to a used Perennial. He knew the car-salesman wouldn't sell it, he parked in that spot every day he was there. He puts his hand on the door handle and it clicks, opening. The feeling of danger stayed with him, he couldn't help it. He noticed his feet scratch across the gravel, looking around. He takes two fast thumping steps up to the door of his trailer and pulls the entrance open.

As the door swings open, there, revealed to him is Tommy Jr. sitting in his read recliner with a beer on the armrest on his left. The chair is facing the doorway, resting on the right armrest, 8-ball spots Tommy's right hand gripping a handgun. "Tommy..." a dove flies in through the window on 8-ball's left and comes to sit on the backrest behind Tommy's head.

"Goodbye 8-ball." 'BLAM!' the bullet hits 8-ball on the upper left side of his chest, 'BLAM!' the second bullet hit's him below the sternum, 'BLAM!' another above that, 'BLAM!' a final shot on the right side of his chest.

8-ball couldn't feel anything except for the burning and a swelling sensation in his heart, like it was pulsating and about to explode, it continued to squeeze at him until it felt like it burst then his sight melted away. There was a tunnel with a light at the end, but it was the final remainder - a bright yet grim reminder of a life disintagrating before him.

TRENT:

Trent bolts down the street with a sawed of double barrel shotgun in his hand. He turns around and fires a shot at a Colombian, he misses. Shortly before calling 8-ball he'd spotted a suspicious car in the background. It was actually a Cartel Cruiser. Augustus' sons had wanted to make their presence known, bringing with them three others - like a friend each. After the call was over two other cars had smashed into their S.U.V. Trent was now running in the opposite direction of the chared remains. He'd blown up all three vehicles but the Cartel's had gotten away by then. Now they were in one Cruiser in the background. Held back by gunfire. Tony was quickly picked up by lacky's who'd met them at the airport, it was like watching the president get escorted away.

It was now just Trent, Fidelio and Fido. Three on three, was the most optimistic way to see it. They were close to the meeting point: Eddies Auto Parts. As they do they see a black Stallion parked next to the left wall.

Trent could see Max Payne with a cigarette in his mouth, getting out the passenger side. He turns into the alleyway as Max pulls guns from his jacket. "Freeze!" Bullets fly past their heads. The three of them wouldn't turn around it was too risky. Fidelio hears the truck press forward, it's left side swerves, the front now facing him but the left side still going down the road it smashes into Max Payne's car knocking him over. It stops their and a group of Cartels get out of the back.

"Fuck 'em then!" Fidelio lifts up his Colt Commando and fires at them, bullets spray across the windshield and so does blood. He hits two inside the Cruiser and one getting out of the back. The pressure of the fires throws him off balance severely and he looses control of the gun. The remaining three Cartels shoot bullet into him, turning his flesh into minced meat. His upper body exploding in pain.

A Cartel, jumps over the top of the Cruiser and fires at Trent and Fido as they make it through the door. Bullets tattooing the wall. He screams in frustration, and runs for the door. Trent and Fido inside have their eyes fixed on the door. They see bullet holes everywhere in it. "Jesus Christ." a streak of blood is spread across the door on the inside. Light shines through the holes on Trent's face. He turns around from the left. Behind him is the corpse of a single Mobster. "God... Did you know this guy?"

He sees that Fido has a worried look on his face, but he's facing away from both Trent and the corpse, looking at something to Trent's right. Trent doesn't turn to see what it is he just keeps staring at Fido. "What?"

"Dad..." a familiar but weaker voice comes from Trent's right, Fido points there, his head snaps in that direction.

"Oh my god! Oh god no! Samantha! Not Samantha!" Samantha's body is covered in blood from stomach to chest with it spread to other parts as well. She lies shivering and helpless, a single shot in the center of her stomach.

A Colombian man bursts through the door pointing his gun at an unarmed Fido, screaming in Spanish, Fido doesn't even look at him. Even when the barrel is directly next to the right side of his face. The Colombian man turns to see what they're staring at. When he does his face sinks, the gun drops from his hand, still clinging from the strap and, he runs over holding Samantha from the right side, Trent holding her from the left. The Cartel screams in Spanish, this time he sounds sad. His eyes filling with tears. Then he begins to speak in Spanish. "God what have I done! God Forgive me!" He rips his shirt and wraps it around Sam's wound, cursing himself the whole time. When he finishes he raises his head, behind him Fido stands with a forty-five pointed at the Cartel's head. The Cartel can see it pointed at him out o fthe corner of his eye. "I've disgraced myself!" He says distraught, "I DESERVE TO DIE!"

'I agree.' Fido thinks pulling the trigger, some drops of blood burst across Samantha's face, she has no reaction to the shot, she just shivers, even when the bullet falls from the wound and lands on her cheek. It rolls off dropping to the floor. Fido couldn't believe what had just happened, the man who'd shot Samantha had had the nerve to try and save her. That was the lowest thing Fido could think of, he stands now watching Trent and Samantha.

Trent bent down on his knees holds Samantha's head in his hands he shakes her slightly, "NO come on, you have to stay here. Stay here alright. Alright Samantha!"

Her head lifts ridgedly, slightly, "...Dad...it's... my.... birth...day..."

"I know - I know! I'm sorry girl, but that's why you need to pull through this, I need you to help me to pull you through this Alright."

She nods, "Dad... I don't want.... to die... on my birthday..."

"No, no, no, no, no, don't say that. Here we have to go I have to get you help, I'm going to lift you on three. Alright?

She nods again her lips quivering.

"Okay. One... Two... Three..." he lifts her up off the ground and carries her to the door. Fido opens it and comes out before them the Colombian's Commando strapped on his left. His guns immediately shift to both sides of the lot. On both sides ar the remaining to Cartels, with their guns pointed at them. Max Payne descends through the entrance his guns pointed at them.

"Max!!" Trent screams "You have to help us, my daughter she's hurt! I have to drive her to the hospital." he says desprately.

"Put her down and let me take you in. Then I'll call for help on my radio."

"NO! FUCK YOU!" He screams at him aggressively. "I'm not going ANYWHERE my daughter's not going." He says his eyes burning, the grief flowing through his face.

Tommy Jr. appears behind Max, 'click, click' he has to matching Barretas a silver contrast to Max's. The first gun is pointed at the back of Max's head. The second gun is pointed to the left at one of the Cartels. "Hey guys. Missed me. Too bad about your daughter. Oh well..." to their surprise Tommy's gun shift to Trent's head.

'BLAM!' Tommy Jr.'s forehead explodes and he hits the ground like a ton of bricks. Behind him is Tommy, his father, a Golden forty-five smoking in his hand.

Tommy doesn't say anything exept for the muttered words "Goddamn it..." He didn't like traitors, his son joined their team to turn them over to the Cartels, he'd been stealing money from his father for years. It was only a matter of time before Tommy Sr. himself was killed at the hands of his own son, he knew it would be better this way.

If Tommy was sad about killing his son Trent couldn't see it, Max and Tommy never acknowledge each other once. Tommy stands motionless with a serious look on his face looking at his son.

"Trent give up... This is your last chance." Max says to him.

Trent rests his chin on his daughters head. "I'm sorry honey..." He says quietly to her, then he looks up at Max "No!"

"Fine." 'BLAM! BLAM!' Tommy's head lifts slightly to see Max fire, his guns had shifted and hit both Cartel's in the head, the first one had dropped like a stone, the other one fell slower with blood spurting uncontrollably from his temple. "Go!" Max says to Trent. He reaches in his pocket and throws a set of car keys to him, they land on Samantha's chest. Trent runs to the busted Sentinal. The last three men standing hear the car start up and drive away casually, speeding up gradually. Fido starts to walk away and Max braces his gun.

"Not you." **Black**. Max goes blind instantly and falls backwards on his knees. Maybe he was getting old, maybe he was distracted by what happened before, but whatever it was. Fido had gotten the upper hand.

Fido stands over Max as he falls to the ground, his barrel smoking. He hears Max fold and puts his guns in his pockets. He brings out a cellphone and dials 911 and tosses it on Max's chest without hanging it up.

He puts a hand on Tommy's shoulder, and the two of them walk away. Turning their back on Eddie's Auto Parts. And it ends where it began.

**THE END**


	56. 0: Trivia

Story and Trivia:

Deaths and Survivals:

Yakuzas: Makoto is recovering with Amaya Kaida outside Liberty City. Their gang is regrouping at this moment.

Diablos: El burro lost control of his gang. They disbanded into two seperate gangs, El burro still has control of one half.

The Cipriani Crime Family: Tony's gang has taken a severe beating. The Forelli crime family will take advantage. Tony still has hope from several sources including Tommy Vercetti in Vice City. Still his gang was partially disbanded from Donald Love's hiring, deaths from Augustus Armando, and walk outs such as Trent.

The Triads: Have taken a severe fall. There position to rise up is not yet known.

Augustus' Cartels: Have lost interest in Liberty City. Falling apart from the inside out.

Max Payne: Was admitted to Portland Hospital with a bullet wound in the head. He will recover completely.

8-ball: Was pronounced dead on a arrival. His body is awaiting autopsy.

Tommy Vercetti Jr.: Spent two months in intensive care but died of unknown causes.

The Nico's: Have died but left a legacy of several relatives and family. Their Uncle recently became a Made Man in New York City.

Fidelio Gerodi: Deceased. He left a widow she's now good friends with Sal's widow.

Carlos: Spent time at the hospital but disappeared at a time when death or recovery were impossible to determine.

Fido?

Mistakes:

Tony's name is spelled wrong throughout the entire story. This is because I started the story before I bought a new copy of Grand Theft Auto III while mine was broken. By the time I had a chance to check the spelling it would have taken too long to replace it so it was left in.

San Fierro is spelled San Fierra because of a few misinformed websites before San Andreas came out.

There are likely several time inconsistancies in the Plaza chapters. You can't be completely sure how much time Max and Carlos spent in the building, or how long the other's spend in it.

There are countless points in the story where I could have messed up everything completely. There is no real major screw up in the entire story. I was just lucky enough to spot the biggest ones before I put them into the story.

Movie and Entertainment Tie-ins:

Shady Aftermath: The words shady and aftermath were purposefully put into the same chapter. And no I'm not a huge rap fan. Nor am I a huge rock fan. I rarely listen to music.

Scarface: The line 'Say Hello to my little friend!' is spoken by Tommy Vercetti's son an obvious reference to Scarface in which Grand Theft Auto Vice City is based.

Playing God: 'Fox' the doctor is the main character from the film Playing God. It's funny how you can tie-in a movie (Playing God) and TV (X-files) character along with a real life actor.

Die Hard: The Stuanton Island Plaza incident is based almost completely on the movie Die Hard. This is because I was playing the game and happened upon a billboard of the would-be finished product of the Plaza, it seemed to bear a striking resemblance to the Nakatomi Plaza in Die Hard.

Back to the Future: The showing of one event as two (or from the point of view as another). Was - believe it or not - not inspired by Pulp Fiction or Reservoir Dogs' muddled timeline. Or Memento's. Or even Resident Evil 2; which actually is my favorite one for that very specific reason. No it was actually inspired by none other than Back to the Future Part II. Marty watches himself do things in 1955, it always kind of caught my attention.

Underworld: Underworld and The Crow are both mentioned by the Nico brothers and Samantha. But the part in the subway where Trent almost changes is based on three movies; Full Metal Jacket, Underworld, and From Dusk Till Dawn. Underworld: Subway, flashing lights (can't remember if I remembered that in the chapter), and an action scene shootout. Full Metal Jacket: A shot woman - she's put out of her misery. From Dusk Till Dawn. The flash of images in his head. This is inspired by the scene in which Richard Gecko is accused of murder by his brother. I felt that scene was much too powerful to be in such a goofy movie.

The Book of Lists: The Book of Lists for Teens is a real book and so are the facts that Samantha states. It's recommended but just a little corny - so have a sense of humor if you pick it up.

Reservoir Dogs Cameo: Yes, fans caught it. Mr.Pink makes a guest appearance in my story. Talking to Tony; voiced by Michael Madsen in the game. A little bit of a Reservoir Dogs family reunion.

Pulp Fiction: The numbers 25:17.

The Quentin Tarantino Super Tie-in: The Tie in is by far the most insane. With constant references to both Pulp Fiction (PF) and Reservoir Dogs (RD). 8-ball and Trent take a prisoner who works for their boss (PF). Their prisoner is a cop (RD) who was taken hostage so they could 'get the fuck out of there' (RD). He's accidentally shot (PF). They throw him in the back (RD). His name is Marvin (both). One of the characters mentions not letting him go because he's a witness (RD). And finally they end up leaving him alone with Toni who's voiced by Michael Madsen who acted in Reservoir Dogs; as Mr.Blonde who was left alone with the cop Marvin.

Texas Chainsaw Massacre: There are a ton of other tie-ins including 8-ball's Texas Chainsaw Massacre inpired escape. The very short appearance of a character named Roy is inspired by a real person (so is Tommy chopping the light off of a cop car). And the psychopath that tortures D-Ice was (after awhile) inspired by Johnny The Homicidal Maniac. Though he wasn't invisioned that way I did draw inspiration from it. Carlos was inspired by Ruben Blades a great Latino actor (though Carlos is much younger). Samantha was both inspired by the little kid in Road to Perdition and taken from another original story of mine. There are actually tie-ins with stories that I haven't written yet: The mysterious man in a black cowboy hat that Max Payne mentions; along with Trent's sister-in-law and brother. There are some accidental tie-ins: The Nico brothers could be compared to the Vega Brothers. D-Ice's torture was not supposed to be similar to Pulp Fiction but I knew the mention of it would come about. Samantha's injury at the end was actually comparitively inspired by Reservoir Dogs' Mr.Orange. The Nico brothers' attitudes was slightly drawn from the attitudes of my brother and me. The part where the Nico's are arguing about who should talk to Misty is played out constantly in my life; He and I will stand and argue over who should go up to the counter to buy our Taco Bell.

Original Works: Again many of my ideas come from original works. Including. The use of 'shattered glass', 'needles', and 'MM's' in shotgun shells. A man is hit by a car and fires through the windshield almost hitting a man's daughter. Max Payne's escaping concrete shoes. Seeing from the point of view of - and connecting to - both the good-guy's and the bad-guy's. There are countless others.

Other Trivia:

8-ball's Death: 8-ball's very grim demise was the exact same as he describes his brother's was. Also when he's gunned down a dove flies into his trailer. As we know of 8-ball's superstituos nature this is actually very foreboding; in folklore a bird flying through your window is ment to send a message. The white bird fortells death.

The characters rarely drink and never use drugs.

For a majority of the story after the Nico brothers have a conversation about the 'F' word they are trying to avoid saying it in front of Samantha.

Even I as the author don't know if there was something going on between Sam and Agostino. It was something that built itself.

The Death of the Nico brothers was planned before the story started. I was tired of watching characters in movies and knowing they were going to die because they have no personalities.

There is a slight but noticable pattern of violence towards teenagers. Though it's true there's violence towards everyone after writing the story I realized: Tommy Jr. is killed in a 'low blow' type of way; his father shoots him in the back of the head. Samantha is shot at the end of the story to show the moral. But Fidelio is the teenager (and the character) who argueably gets it the worst. He's beaten out of his car, he's stabbed by accident, his arm is cut off by a helicopter propeller, and he's gunned down by machineguns. At nineteen Fidelio turns out the be the badass of the story.

There are consistent weather themes. It never stops raining in Liberty City, and it's always cold at night in Vice City etc...

I was hoping the story would be (at the very least) possible in real life no matter how improbable. I like to think I succeeded. I certainly didn't want it to be as extreme as Mission Impossible or The Matrix. But every once in awhile (in spirit of truth is stranger than fiction) something nearly impossible will be placed into the story. Like Sal's long range shot into a moving car.

The first member of the Crew to die is Lucio Forelli.


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